


Come closer I’ll give you all my love

by Createdforyou



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, fake dating au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27249196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Createdforyou/pseuds/Createdforyou
Summary: Robbe’s ex is a pain and Sander helps get rid of him. The problem? They’ve been friends for as long as they can remember and some point between the blurred lines, they fall in love.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 73
Kudos: 188





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!🥰 This fic is heavily inspired by a post by @itubainaretro (if you’re reading this hi!). Again I don’t really know what I’m doing but here we are haha. Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> (I didn’t really proofread much so sorry if there are mistakes)

He could ignore it. 

Here in the blazing heat of the club, the flashing neon lights dripping pinks and blues on bodies on the dance floor, Robbe could ignore the guy that was ten feet across from him out with his friends, searching the area. He could’ve just disappeared altogether, melted into the walls, made a beeline for the bathroom. He could’ve done all those things if it weren’t for the mere fact that that guy was his ex and he had told him something that he knew he would soon come to regret. 

In his defence, it wasn’t exactly Robbe’s fault. Not really. Noah, his ex, was an extremely persistent fellow, adamant about wanting him back, about wanting to hold him again and how lonely his nights were without him. And conversations with him always went like this: 

“Robbe, can we talk?” he would ask. He would stand there with his expensive coat, his perfectly styled dark hair and his chiseled face and he would make the ends on Robbe’s nerves spark with irritation. 

“There’s nothing to talk about” Robbe would say. 

“There’s surely something I could do or say to make you forgive me,” he would take his hand. “An evening at our favourite restaurant, that fancy hotel you like, massages after? Or I could even drive you to the mall and get that watch you’ve always wanted.” 

The hopeful look in his dark eyes was not one that Robbe could stand. The thing is, he wouldn’t mind any of those. He wouldn’t mind having dinner at an expensive restaurant, sleeping in an expensive hotel bed, relaxing all his muscles in an expensive massage. But all those things were just that. Expensive. All of it was to flaunt his money without an inkling of meaningfulness to the activities they did. Maybe there had been meaning in the beginning, but if it hadn’t withered away leaving a sour and dry taste in Robbe’s mouth, he wouldn’t be standing here trying to get away from it all. 

“Keep your massages and hotels. I told you I don’t need them. I don’t need  _you_.”

And this time, with his dark eyes glistening in a heavy flash and a softened gaze upon him, Noah had said, 

“ Everyone needs someone, Robbe. The sooner you realize that the better.”

And that almost made him want to yield in his embrace, forget the past few months of shattered emptiness, let go of all that anger just to have someone hold him.  Almost . But his blood ran hot when he realized the second half of his sentence and he knew that it was just another tactic, another manipulation to have a power over him that he didn’t want to give into anymore. So, in his blind rage he did something that he truly, honestly hadn’t meant to do. He had lied. 

“Well, maybe I already have someone,” he had said indignantly with his head held high. Anyone would have been proud of him in this moment because a lie or not, it really wasn’t any of Noah’s business. Except for the fact that he didn’t think through what he was about to say next when Noah asked him with a surprised tilt of his head,

“Really? Who?”

“Sander.”

The name had just escaped his lips so easily. Sander. Sander Driesen: his partner in crime, a really close friend, and maybe even one of his best friends. He’d known him since grade school ever since he flung an eraser at his head with a makeshift slingshot made out of elastic rubber bands. He’d sworn he would never talk to him again but Sander had obviously charmed his way into being friends, grabbing his arm and wriggling his eyebrows asking him to be partners for a school project. It was just the first person he thought of and he didn’t really think much of it in the upcoming week. He might’ve actually forgotten all about this interaction because Robbe spent a lot of time actively trying to wipe any and all memories of Noah. Sometimes he succeeded, sometimes he didn’t. 

And sometimes his brain wiped away too much and he didn’t have to think of the consequences until right now. In this club. 

His head was spinning and he hoped he could reach Sander, who was stood at the bar, before he was seen. He made his way pushing past the sweaty, dancing crowd, getting his brown jacket caught in fumbling hands and almost tripping over himself to get to him. Robbe wasn’t one for religion but he had found himself silently praying to any and all deities present in the sky that he would just go along with his plan. Just for a few minutes, until Noah was out of sight. 

Sander had barely finished thanking the bartender for his drink, smiling in his grey full-sleeve and blonde hair shining in the neon lights, when Robbe leaned in and softly clasped his fingers into his. 

“Uh, hello to you, too,” he looked at their hands. 

“Just go with it, please,” Robbe pleaded. He knew Sander wasn’t one to refuse shenanigans in the night but this one might confuse him or give him the wrong ideas, and he wanted so badly to not have to deal with this, but he was already here, gripping his fingers in his. 

“Okay not that I’m complaining, but I’m gonna need an explanation at some point,” Sander smirked. 

“And you’ll get one. Later. For now, just hold my hand and look like you’re maybe in love with me a little,” he said, glancing over to check if Noah had come closer. Sander just stared at him, giving him a combined look of amusement and dumbfoundedness, to which Robbe noticed and peered into his eyes. “Please,” he begged once more, glancing to the side. 

Sander looked to where he kept darting his eyes and it seemed he finally saw the explanation he’d been looking for. Well, part of it. Noah had been by the entrance in his usual white button-up shirt, chatting up his friends, and if he turned his head just a few degrees more, he’d see Robbe and him standing in all their glory, holding hands. He could feel Sanderinstinctively squeeze his fingers a little harder, sensing a mood and going into overdrive. He could see the way his green eyes flashed, dark and suspicious, the way his mouth immediately was downturned at the sight of his ex. It was almost protective the way he leaned forward just a bit, shielding Robbe away and offering him a safe glow in the bubble they’d both created just by holding hands. And it made him hopeful that all this could work tonight and he wouldn’t have to worry about Noah, or even Sander, in the aftermath of it all. 

Noah’s eyes finally found them and as he squinted, he gained closer on them. 

“Robbe?” 

“Noah,” he nodded. 

There was an awkward beat of silence as they stared at each other. Robbe into Noah’s dark eyes, Noah into Robbe’s brown ones. Sander had bored holes into Noah since the moment he reached them. Robbe had told him all about his ex when they’d first started dating and again after their breakup. It didn’t exactly paint a pretty picture of him and anytime he’d meet him, his distaste seemed to be even worse.

Finally, Noah turned to glance at Sander and then down at their hands locked tightly together. 

“So, this is for real, then? You two are actually together?” he asked with a slight scratch in his throat. 

It was true that when Robbe told him, he found it a little hard to believe that Sander, the boy he’d been friends with for a long time, was interested in him. But that might have just been an initial shock coupled with the fact that his ego wouldn’t let him think that Robbe could do better. That Sander was better. And if Robbe had to admit it, some part of him deep down, way way way deep down, he knew that he would be. 

“You look surprised.” It was Sander who spoke, holding Robbe’s hand tighter and leaning in even closer. 

“Not surprised. Just intrigued,” Noah shrugged. That was what he always did when he tried to brush off the bitter feeling of being embarrassed and wrong. When he tried to casually pretend to have the upper hand. “How long have you two been...?” he didn’t attempt to finish the question. 

“Uh...about two months?” Sander looked at Robbe. 

“Yeah,” he said, unable to really form any coherent sentences right now. 

“Two months. Best two months of my life.”

As Sander kissed his temple and wrapped an arm around him without ever letting go of his hand, Robbe really couldn’t believe how dedicated nor how good at this he was. 

“You haven’t answered any of my messages since last week,” Noah looked at Robbe. 

“I’ve been a little busy. Right babe?” he turned to give Sander a soft kiss on the cheek, one he’d willingly leaned into. “Are you enjoying yourself? You should get a drink, talk to your friends, maybe find someone new here,” he then suggested to Noah. He could see him swallow heavily, a lump in his throat that Robbe felt in his own, but he hoped it would be enough to get him to take the hint and walk away. 

“Yeah, you’re right. I should get back to my friends,” he said. Robbe didn’t miss the disregard of the last part of his sentence, to find someone new. To let him go. “It was good to see you. Enjoy your night,” he nodded curtly and stalked off, pulling his phone out of his pocket and joining his friends once again. 

And for the first time in a while that night, Robbe felt like he could finally breathe. 

So, he exhaled out and let his shoulders drop now that Noah was gone, barely registering Sanders fingers still locked in his. He gave him a mildly worried stare, his green eyes illuminating in the club lights. 

“Are you okay?” Sander asked. Robbe took another breath. 

“Yeah. Yeah I’m fine,” he said. 

Sander looked at him more insistent and he nodded once again to reassure him. 

“Okay, so now do you have an explanation for  this ?” he smiled, holding up their hands. - 

Sander’s eyes were warm as they sat across each other on the stools of the bar. They were iridescent pools Robbe could drown in under these lights. He didn’t think this was how the night would go. He was expecting that Sander and him would hit the club, grab a drink before Jens and the boys got here too, and scour the sights for a hot guy (or even a hot girl for Sander) maybe. And maybe Robbe would’ve felt blush creeping up his neck at Sander suggesting that the only hot guy here was him. But the unfortunate events of tonight and his own stupid mouth blurting out his name to Noah had made things shift. 

He’d had some explaining to do. 

“So, I’m really sorry for all that...” he started.

“You don’t have to apologize,” said Sander. 

“Oh, but I do,” Robbe raised his eyebrows, making a face between lighthearted amusement and complete and utter dread. “Because last week Noah was pestering me about getting back together. And he cornered me at that coffee shop we used to go to a lot and he just kept asking to talk and telling me all these things, asking me what it would take for me to want him back. And he just...he really got under my skin.”

Robbe looked at his half empty glass of beer and remembered the words clearly, all of it rushing back to him now. 

_ Everyone needs someone, Robbe. The sooner you realize that the better.  _

It was such a typical thing for him to say, yet it left Robbe questioning why it didn’t hurt any less. He knew he had his friends, his mama, and Sander, and a relationship wasn’t all that life was about. But sometimes, in the past few months he’d broken it off with Noah, he wondered what it would’ve been like if he’d had a different relationship. The kind that didn’t leave his chest heavy with doubts, or where sighs didn’t escape in an empty bed in the morning. One that didn’t leave him wanting something tangible, something unbreakable, something  more. 

“When  doesn’t he get under your skin?” Sander snorted, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

“Exactly! And so that’s why I told him that I was already dating someone just to get rid of him. And...” he couldn’t bring himself to finish the rest. 

“You said you were dating me?” 

“Yes,” Robbe groaned as he plopped his head on the counter, hiding in his arms. 

He could already see the gleam in his eyes, the endless accounts of teasing that were about to follow. Instead, Sander took a long sip of beer, his mouth plastered to the glass.

“I’m kinda flattered, actually,” he said, shyly looking down at the golden drink. 

“What?”

“I mean, I’m glad to know I’m the first person you thought of, it’s kind of like a compliment, yeah?” he smiled confidently at him.

“Alright, alright. Don’t let it get to your head,” Robbe rolled his eyes as Sander laughed a hearty laugh, flashing his canines at him. He joined him in his laughter until he caught sight of dark eyes from across the room. 

“Don’t look now- fuck I said don’t look!” he hissed as Sander turned his head, then turned back to him smiling mischievously.

They’d seen Noah’s eyes piercing right through them, his face twisting in an emotion Robbe hadn’t seen from him. A twinge of jealousy, maybe. But all the jealousy in the world couldn’t make him want to be with him again. 

Robbe sighed. “He’s staring at us.” 

“Well then,” Sander said with a spark in his eyes and a curve of his lips. “Let’s give him something to see.”

He held out his hand, looking straight at Robbe as if he was asking if he trusted him. He looked down at his palm and then up at his eyes, the slightest smile forming across his lips. He did trust him. So, he took his hand and Sander pulled him out of his seat, past Noah and into the nearest wall. 

Robbe didn’t know when he felt his hand on his waist or when he saw the stars dance across his eyes, but Sander was pushing him against the wall and he felt himself pulling him closer. His stomach was jumping hoops and his skin was crawling in anticipation, shivers that ran through despite the heat surrounding him. And when Sander’s lips were just a hair’s breath away, he closed his eyes into oblivion as he melted right into him. 

He’d been met with a soft touch. A quiet peck, testing the waters. But as he fisted a handful of Sander’s shirt into his hands, a certain hunger had just taken over. He was absolutely lost in it, lips moving in sync with their heartbeats. He felt Sander’s hands tangle in his luscious, brown hair as he wrapped his arms around him fully, pulling him closer, closer, never enough. 

Then, he felt his jaw set and a certain wetness drag across his bottom lip, so he parted his mouth to let him in. Robbe didn’t think it could feel like this. He didn’t know it could simultaneously feel this calming and intense, like sparks of fireworks flying in the night sky as the cool breeze would hit your skin. He didn’t know it could awaken every dormant cell in your body, revelations of a unique discovery. He never thought it could be like this, so much that he could relish the feeling for days to come. 

It was never like this with Noah.

_ Noah _ .

Just as Sander’s fingers hovered over the hem of his shirt, he chanced a look over his shoulder to find an empty space where Noah had been. 

Robbe found he didn’t want to let this go. He wanted to keep this moment in his mouth just a little more. So he let himself savour the taste and hesitantly pulled away, lips swollen and pink. Sander didn’t look any better. 

“He’s gone,” he said. 

“Oh,” was all Sander could manage. 

Their breaths were mixing in intoxicating air and their fingers slowly pulled away from the fabric of their clothes, softly tugging and lingering along the way. 

Suddenly it felt like the lights were too bright, the music too loud, and everything was too much and Robbe felt like he couldn’t breathe again. He rushed out from Sander’s embrace and out the club doors, the cool air hitting his face. Feeling out of breath and like his chest was winded, he tried to suck in air slowly.  _What had just happened? What was he doing?_ He tightly closed his eyes as he heard the club door open, the music blaring and fading out as it closed, and he heard the steps of Doc Martens behind him. 

“Sorry,” said Robbe, without looking at him. 

“You know, one of these days you’re gonna have to stop saying that,” he heard Sander scoff. He could already imagine the small smile and shake of his head. He turned around to face him. 

“We can keep going,” he continued. “If you want.” 

His eyes were soft and his bleached hair was shining in the night, a stark contrast to the black backdrop of the dark skies and streets. Robbe looked at him, eyes moving across his face, left to right and up and down, trying to read him. 

“What, like pretend we’re together?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Sander shrugged. “If you want,” he repeated. “It doesn’t have to be like, all the time or in front of our friends, but if he comes back again or you feel like you need to...”

Robbe wasn’t sure what to think. He didn’t think this would be something that needed to happen again. Or something that could  ever happen again. There was a feeling twisting his gut about using his friend like this.

“And...you’d be ok with that?” he asked him, raising his brows. 

He saw Sander shake with laughter. 

“Yes, Robbe. How long have I known you for? You worry way too much. We can take it easy, yeah? No pressure,” he shrugged once more, his voice breezy and light.

It was astonishing how Sander could always make him feel better in an instant, a warmth that would spread all across his body, a sense of calm and friendly energy that soothed all his anxieties. 

He thought about it for a bit. If Noah did decide to make a presence somewhere and he was seen with Sander, it would definitely help keep him away. And as long as Sander was offering and they didn’t have to make a big deal about it, it should be fine. He felt a weight lifted in this moment, light and airy as his shoulders relaxed, and instead of an awkward distance threatening to push him away, to drag tension scorching through the flames, he felt closer to Sander. 

“Yeah. Okay, yeah. No pressure,” Robbe smiled.

Sander returned the smile and tilted his head. 

“Let’s go back inside. Jens and the others are probably waiting for us,” he said. 

Robbe nodded and as he headed towards the door, Sander wrapped his arm leisurely around his shoulder. 

_ No pressure.  _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I’m so so sorry this took so long :((( but enjoy a sander pov :) I think I’ll have them switch until the last chapter haha

The rain was a soft caress on the windows of Sander’s flat. 

He watched the pitter-patter on the glass, the droplets slowly falling, joining others and becoming one huge droplet to run down to the sill. He did this for a while, playing with a stress ball in his hands as he sat back-to-back with Robbe on his couch. He’d long ago given up on completing his work and right now, while his thoughts ran around, he was fine with just feeling the warm touch of Robbe’s back as he did his bio assignments for uni. 

Touch for Sander meant a lot. 

It was a way for him to feel the world around him, to soak in softness and harshness if it deemed him suited for either. But it was also a way to communicate. When words became rash or awkward or too much, he used touch to say all the things he wished he could say. He used touch to receive all the words and messages, even the subtle, subconscious ones, that people laid out for him too. 

In this moment, he could hear the tapping of Robbe’s pencil on paper and he could feel the vibrations of his fingers moving up his arm and into his back. He could feel his muscles tense, sinking lower and lower into the couch. 

“Okay, whats wrong?” Sander let out a defeated sigh, deciding to ask his friend what he was worried about. 

“Nothing,” Robbe replied.

“Not buying it. Your tapping is annoying and I know you do that when you’re stressed.” 

He had to laugh a little inside when  _he _ was the one with the stress ball in hand. 

Finally Robbe sighed and lifted himself up from the couch, making Sander fall into the empty space. He righted himself and looked up curiously at him.

“I know you said we didn’t need to make this a big deal, but if we’re gonna do this, shouldn’t we like...practice or something?” 

Sander was wide-eyed and still, looking up at him for a brief moment, that brief moment where your brain didn’t connect the words and short-circuited before you realized what’s being talked about. Then he  _realized _.

It had been a week since they kissed and pretended to be a couple in front of Robbe’s ex. It was quite normal after that, going back to routine. It had actually been teasing each other endlessly, full of casual touches and inside jokes and dumb conversations.

_“ I have a question,” Sander poked Robbe’s arm as they sat next to each other on the desk at the uni library. Robbe was taking notes for his class, his textbook open and all his materials splayed on the tabl e._

_“ No,” said Robbe without looking up. Sander gave him a pointed look and then a pout._

_ “It’s about the multiverse theory.” _

_ A theory Robbe had talked his ear off about multiple times before.  _

_ “Oh. Then, still no,” he smirked. “Every time you ask me about that you make my brain hurt.”  _

_ Sander shrugged and picked up his pencil continuing to sketch and doodle on his paper.  _

_ “It wouldn’t be fun if I didn’t pick your brain every once in a while.” _

_ “Okay, what’s the question?”  _

_“ If scientists are saying we can’t prove it exists, you can’t prove it doesn’t exist either. So, what if there’s another universe where they know for sure it exists, but in ours we just don’t know? Wouldn’t that be a paradox?” _

_ Robbe took a second to stare at him and then shook his head smiling. _

_ “You see that? Instant brain melt. My brain is melting,” he said, sighing. “Think of it this way, it’s just a concept, a theory, and you can choose if you want to believe in it or not. Regardless of whether scientists think it exists.” _

_ “You’re just saying that cause you believe in it,” Sander looked at him with a teasing gleam in his eyes.  _

_ “And you don’t?”  _

_ “I’m...undecided,” he declared.  _

_ Robbe shook his head again, his lips stretching across his face. He returned back to his notes, but not before nudging his arm with his. Then he kept it there, heat transferring between the fabric of hoodies, a warmth and comfort Sander basked in as he went back to his sketching.  _

Completely normal. And though Sander wanted to hide the fact that flashes of that kiss remained in his mind, he definitely couldn’t escape it now. 

So much for no pressure. 

“Practice?” he asked him with a smirk. “You want to practice holding hands and kissing? I think we were pretty convincing that night.”

He didn’t want to think about how his heart was already leaping at the thought of having to kiss Robbe again. 

“I don’t know, I’ve never fake-dated before,” Robbe let out a frustrated breath. 

“But you have  _dated_ before,” his smirk was relentless. 

“Yeah but it’s...” Robbe’s sentence was caught in his throat. 

Sander wondered if he was thinking the same thing he was. If he was thinking  _but it’s not the same. It’s not you._

Sander had had his fair share of exes too, the last being absolutely horrific. But he hadn’t realized that until it was almost too late and he spiralled. Robbe was there to pick up the pieces. He was always there. Sander was there for him too with Noah. And now, he was sitting in his flat talking about the implications of dating his friend (even if it was pretend) and he didn’t know how to feel when Robbe looked this cute all flustered.

So he did what he did best and swallowed his feelings whole. 

“We could just figure out the basics, I guess,” he said. “When we started dating, how we found out we liked each other, that sort of stuff.” 

He got up from the couch and moved over to the counter in the kitchen. It was a spacious area where Sander lived but he shared it with Senne, his roommate. Senne paid for most of the expenses and Sander helped out with his share in between studying as an art major. And he usually had the whole place to himself most nights which meant he had the privilege of Robbe’s presence most nights.

“Okay, so we already said we started dating two months ago,” Robbe began, the gears turning in his head. “Um...how did you know you liked me?” 

Sander searched a glass from the cabinet and turned on the tap for water.Then he blew out a breath, pretending to look for an answer. 

“Uhh...I don’t know, I just knew that I liked talking with you and making you smile. Whenever I was with you, it felt different?”  He held the glass and smiled.  “Oh, and your hair. I fell in love with your luscious, brown hair.”

Then he looked at Robbe who was already giving him a smile for the joke and taking a sip, he prepared to throw the question back at him. 

“How did you know you liked me?”

Robbe swallowed and took a second to think about it. 

“You, uh, you made me laugh and I knew I could tell you anything I wanted. When we’re together it also felt different. And...um....” he looked up thinking. “At some point, I found out bleached blondes were my type,” he finished.

“You can’t just copy my answer,” Sander gave him a look. 

“I can and I will,” Robbe closed his eyes in affirmation. “Okay, one more question though,” he said waiting with a nervous beat “Do we tell our friends?”

“That we’re dating?”

“That we’re  _fake-_ dating,” he corrected. 

Sander flashed a moment’s hesitation across his face, calculating all the risks and effort required for that, taking into account if Robbe would even want that and the answer he might be hoping for. He decided on the safe route. 

“No, I don’t think we have to get them involved,” he finally said.

“Okay,” said Robbe.

“Okay,” said Sander. 

And that was that. -

The skatepark was buzzing with skaters, the wheels of boards rolling on the ramps. Jens, Moyo and Aaron sat on the edge of a ramp, laughing about something stupid no doubt. Robbe and Sander sat on the other side passing a joint along. Sander didn’t smoke often but whenever he did, he liked to watch the smoke billowing out across his leather jacket and into Robbe’s brown one, vanishing in the air and disappearing into nothing. 

“I’m telling you it works wonders,” Jens said.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Moyo snickered. 

“Sander what do you think?” Aaron asked him. 

He took a long drag of the joint and then passed it over to Robbe as he spoke.

“I think you’re too obsessed with the toothpaste, man,” he laughed, eliciting more chuckles from the rest of the boys. 

They had continued talking but Sander had lost focus on the conversation and his attention somehow fixated on watching Robbe smoke instead. He looked so casual with the corner of his lips curved as he smiled at the others and it made Sander ache a little knowing the joint that touched his lips had touched Robbe’s as well. Knowing that he knew the taste of those lips now. He forced himself to look away into the streets. And what he saw was Noah strutting across the sidewalk, expensive coat and all. 

He instinctively reached for Robbe’s hand but he found that Robbe had already grabbed it, eyes like a hawk on his ex. Sander followed his eyes and he saw Noah squinting over here. He could sense the anxiousness in Robbe wondering if he would make his way over here and before he could say anything he heard the broerrrs giggling and cackling. 

“What’s the situation here?” Jens nodded at their hands. “Are you guys finally together?” 

It broke Robbe out of his concentration and it made Sander panic a little. 

As Robbe asked, “Finally?” Sander said, “Yeah, we’re together.”

He felt Robbe’s surprised face gawking at him and he subtly and awkwardly shifted, knowing he’d screwed up. But then Robbe gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and he knew it was him signalling that it was okay. 

“Fucking finally,” Jens hollered.

“You owe me fifty euros now,” Moyo whispered to Aaron who groaned. 

Sander couldn’t believe they had bet on this and now they thought they were dating for real, and he didn’t have the time to wonder what it meant when Robbe pulled him by the arm off the ramp. 

“Yeah, yeah, you guys can debate the day we realized we’re made for each other. We’re gonna go...make-out,” he said, his eyes distracted following Noah, checking to see if he would come. It was a horrible excuse to get away, but when Robbe was high-strung like this, all paranoid and antsy, he didn’t really pay attention to what he was saying and he prioritized one situation over another. 

He kept pulling him, leaving the boys in their laughter and confusion, until they were out of sight from both Noah and them. He abruptly let go and slightly walked ahead. Sander knew it was because he needed his space to let his thoughts simmer and he knew exactly how to help in this situation, too. 

“Do you wanna go raid the store for junk food?” he asked him. Robbe stopped in his tracks and looked back to see the shining smile on Sander’s face. He hoped it was enough to convince him to go. 

Robbe’s lip curved as his eyes sparkled back and Sander couldn’t help the muscles in his face pulling his smile wider. -

Sander scoured the aisles as Robbe leisurely walked beside him. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for yet, other than the usual items they buy, but he was definitely going to find them if it meant easing Robbe’s nerves. Soon, their cart was filled to the brim with chocolate and chocolate biscuits, chips and drinks. 

It was sort of a tradition they had. Whenever one of them was in a bad mood or stressed (and Sander had had a lot of those) and they were close by a supermarket, they would just buy anything and everything they could get their hands on. Not to mention wreaking chaos as Sander told Robbe to climb on his cart and he flew them through the empty aisles, spinning him dizzy at the end. It didn’t help a lot for their bank accounts, but it helped their minds settle and more importantly, their stomachs. 

They had split up at some point, Robbe in the pasta aisle and Sander in the frozen section. He was debating a frozen dinner when Robbe came casually strolling up to him with the cart. Sander bit his thumbnaillooking at the packaging and then he showed him the frozen box as Robbe’s shoulder leaned into him, his head titling to see it.

“What do you think?” 

“Frozen pizza, huh, who’s gonna cook it? Not me,” Robbe shrugged, smiling at him. 

“You just stick it in the oven, Robbe, it’s not that complicated,” Sander rolled his eyes. “But fine, if I cook it, can we get it?” 

Robbe laughed at that and ruffled his hair while moving his cart along. Unfortunately, he was too busy smiling at Sander to notice the cart he was about to bump into. The jolt startled both of them and he saw Robbe looking up to apologize. 

“Sorry I- uh, Lara?” he stuttered. Sander recognized her as Noah’s sister and watched the tension and awkwardness float in the air. The frozen section had never felt colder than in this brief moment. But the chills went away when she spoke, just as bewildered. 

“Robbe?” she said. “It’s good to see you, how’ve you been?” 

“Good, good. Uh, how are  you?” he asked. 

“Good,” she nodded. 

Sander wished this boring and dreadful conversation would end already. It was bad enough he was just standing there without a way to contribute. Then he thought it was probably worse for Robbe. After a few more moments of intense silence, Robbe seemed to remember his presence.

“Oh, uh, by the way this is Sander...my boyfriend.”

Sander wrapped his arm around him, noticing the way Robbe shyly hesitated at the word, and he probably would have too if he were in this situation, but...there was something fluttering in his chest with the way he said it and the way it sounded and the idea of this possibility slowly seeping into his heart. 

“Oh, that’s great! I’m happy for you,” Lara smiled at them both. Sander returned the smile, brief and taut, but he knew she was saying the only sensible thing to say in this case. And Lara, he had learned from Robbe’s many retellings, was a sensible girl. 

“Thanks. I’ll let you continue shopping,” Robbe pushed his cart aside for her, quickly trudging forward and as Sander followed him, he knew he was just dying to get away. But then she tapped his arm, leaning in and Sander had to pretend he wasn’t listening. 

“Don’t tell Noah I said this, but I really am glad you found someone who makes you happy,” she chuckled.

“Thanks,” Robbe said again, smiling. And finally, she pushed her cart along and made her way to the end of the aisle, looking at the frozen peas. 

Sander heard him sigh in relief and he wondered how she’d even know he made Robbe happy, wondered if she saw all their antics earlier in the store. Was a single smile from Robbe as he stood beside him enough to represent his happiness? Was a laugh drawn from his lips while he looked at him enough to make it known he was the cause of it? 

Boyfriend or not, he really hoped so. 

He slowly reached down and clasped his fingers in between Robbe’s and he was grateful when instead of letting go, he held it tighter.-

The bags weighed on them as they carried them out of the store. Maybe Sander should’ve thought about the walk back to their bikes beforehand. Robbe didn’t seem to mind though. In the grey skies looming over them and the chills of autumn coursing through their jackets and across the skin of their necks, they walked the streets in comfortable silence. 

Suddenly Robbe gave an outburst. 

“Ugh, why is he here again?” he rolled his eyes. Sander followed his eyes to Noah walking in front of them, coming straight  at them. He was now strolling with his sister which might’ve been why he was crossing the skatepark in the first place, to meet with Lara, but she was too busy on her phone to notice them again. And by now, Noah had locked eyes with Robbe, his intentions clear. He wanted to speak with him again. 

He saw Robbe slip into an alleyway where there was a break between the two streets and a narrow road leading in and set his bags down. He looked like he was waiting for Sander to do the same, so he glanced back at Noah and walked towards Robbe. As soon as he set his bags down, he felt hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Can you kiss me?” Robbe asked. Sander had to stare at him for a few seconds unable to respond, then his brain caught up to the reasons for his suggestion.

“I didn’t think you meant it when you said we’d make-out, Ijzermans,” he finally smirked. “Lay it on me.”

Robbe reached up to put his hands on his face and planted his lips on Sander’s. It was soft at first, always hesitant, but Sander deepened the kiss to let him know it was alright. In fact, it was more than alright. It was making him senseless, driving him mad being devoured like this. Robbe’s fingers were cold as they trailed his neck, seeking any warmth that they could find and when they softly crawled in his hair, he tried not to lose himself in the feeling. He ran his own fingers through Robbe’s hair and he wasn’t lying when he said it was luscious. Luscious and soft and the only thing he could grip right now to keep him from floating away. 

He heard, somewhere far away in his mind, footsteps walk by them and it indicated Noah and Lara walking by and away. 

Still, he wanted Robbe’s lips on his, wanted his mouth tracing his over and over again. When he grabbed the collar of his leather jacket and pulled him forward in another open-mouthed kiss, Sander lost his balance and nearly surged forward, falling into him. The kiss broke in laughter. 

“I think they’re gone,” said Sander. Robbe leaned over to confirm then smiled at him. They were still tangled in each other’s arms, breathless in wonder. 

“I think the whole world knows we’re dating now,” Robbe’s lips curved as he slightly panted. 

“Should we make it insta official or what?” Sander teased. He looked into Robbe’s eyes, dark browns he could drown in, eyes shifting up and down and across his face from his eyes to his lips. 

“Hey, you’re the one that told the broers we were together. And _you_ said you didn’t wanna get our friends involved,” he grinned, poking his chest as he spoke. “ _Y_ _ou _ said- mmmh.”

Robbe’s complaints got muffled in Sander’s mouth. He couldn’t help himself, not when he looked so cute and flustered and when he wanted to shut him up for making fun of him. It was a another sweet kiss, lips dancing in softness and then they pulled away with their breaths lost in the wind. 

“We should uh...we should get back,” Robbe’s voice cracked. Neither of them made an effort to move just yet though. 

“Yeah,” Sander sighed. 

He had only kissed Robbe twice now but he just had to wonder if it always going to be like this. Was it always going to feel like he had done this a million times before, like he was made to do it a million times more? Was he always going to leave him breathless and winded like this? Because if so...

_ Boy was he in trouble.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with the supermarket scene and the ending too actually but thanks for reading! 💕


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm so sorry this took so long!!! I've updated the tags a bit too since it turned out to be more hurt/comfort than angst near the end. I also forgot to mention the title is from Falling by Trevor Daniels but that's maybe obvious idk and there's only like one line that fits the fic lol. But please enjoy Robbe being a confused baby for a whole chapter sldfjlsdg

Jealousy was an emotion Robbe had a hard time comprehending. 

At least when it came to Sander Driesen. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the odd jealousy spring up here and there when he was with Noah, the kind that didn’t really last because some part of him knew they wouldn’t last. But when it came to Sander, it was a burning ache in his chest, a rush of an emotion that made guilt fill his lungs for ever feeling that way. It was the ridiculous kind that, even though it was a momentary flash through his body and his brain knew better, his heart seethed with unnecessary envy if someone looked at him a certain way or if he looked back. It was the kind that hurt. 

As he watched Sander order his coffee at the café counter and the pretty barista flirt with him endlessly, twirling her golden hair and smiling brightly at him, he tried not to make a face. He took it a step further to look away when Sander smiled back at her. Yep, this was definitely a jealousy he had to bury deep inside because to be quite honest, Sander wasn’t really doing anything wrong. He wasn’t actually his boyfriend and Robbe had just gotten out of a relationship and Sander was free to smile at whomever he pleases and-

“I ordered you a regular, hope that’s okay,” Sander’s voice filtered through his ears. Robbe looked at him like he’d forgotten where he was. The low conversations of the coffee shop and orders being taken were finally heard through his periphery. He stared distractedly into his green eyes.

“I didn’t know if you wanted some fancy shit today, the way you stared off into space,” Sander continued, smirking. 

Robbe shook his head, dug his hands deeper into the pockets of his brown jacket over his green hoodie and stuttered a response. 

“Uh, yeah, no that’s fine.” 

While they waited at the counter for their coffee, Robbe couldn’t help staring at how casual Sander seemed. He stood there in his leather jacket, his grey shirt, Doc Martens forever making a statement, and he just...seemed to be completely fine. Completely fine with the arrangement they’ve made, completely fine with the fact they’ve kissed twice now and completely fine with the fact that the very last one had been when no one was watching. When there was no show to put on for Noah. 

That was a whole other problem on its own because there he was with his designer coat, a button-up and slacks, waltzing in through the glass door of the coffee shop. This wasn’t even their coffee shop, thought Robbe. How many places could he possibly find him?

He felt Sander shift beside him, already slipping his fingers in his. 

“Just ignore him and he’ll probably go away,” he said.

“This is  _ Noah  _ we’re talking about, right?” Robbe gave him a look. Sander sighed heavily. 

“I don’t get why he’s so obsessed with you all of a sudden. I mean you break up with him and  _ now  _ he wants to pretend he cares about you.”

By now, the barista made her way to give them the drinks and croissants (he assumed Sander had ordered those too) over the counter. She caught a glimpse of their hands entangled and her face fell flat in disappointment. Robbe wished it didn’t make him feel relief. He wished he wasn’t vaguely imagining some world, some universe, where their hands in each other’s meant something more. It was a feeling that he couldn’t really describe. Then, he registered Sander’s comment. 

“He cared about me,” Robbe muttered as he took his coffee. 

“Not the way he should’ve,” Sander retorted, his eyes icy and his tone clipped as he started walking towards a table. 

“And how’s that?” Robbe asked, following him with his mouth tilting, a bitter laugh on the edge of his lips. 

That’s when Sander stopped moving and behind him, Robbe almost spilled his coffee down his shirt. He turned to face him with a look in his eyes Robbe couldn’t quite read. It felt like they were on the verge of breaking, shattering into glass pieces, sparkling and strewn. As if they were about to pour truth into his words instead of tears. 

“Like you matter, he said. “He should’ve cared like you’re the only thing that matters.”

And in that moment, time stood still. It was such an easy declaration, but it carried weight. What kind though, Robbe couldn’t figure out. He just didn’t expect Sander to turn around and say that. Say it  _ like that _ . As if he wasn’t in the middle of a coffee shop, surrounded by people where anyone walking by could hear. As if it wasn’t something short of both intimacy and a public confession, making his heart glow slowly and softly. As if it was the most natural thing to say.

Robbe realized he’d been staring and cleared his throat for a response. 

“Thank you. We should get to our table,” he fumbled forward, trying to hide the blush tinted on his cheeks. 

While they settled into their seats, Noah had made his way around to the line forming. He caught a glimpse of them and deliberated before walking over. 

“Hi,” he said. 

“Hey,” Robbe responded. He seemed to be fine on the outside, but on the inside dread filled his body up like water filling up a boat, leaving him to drown. 

There was awkwardness as Noah stared from Robbe to Sander, at their hands on each other, Robbe’s on Sanders shoulder and Sander’s lightly on Robbe’s thigh, their legs up against each other, and their shoulders touching. It wasn’t an overt public display of affection, but it was definitely an intimate one, the touch of two people who knew each other. He slightly coughed and looked at Robbe. 

“Can I speak to you?” Then he added, “Alone.”

Sander had already tensed and Robbe could tell that he was hesitant at first. But he squeezed his hand and slowly got up, leaning over to give him a kiss. Though, Robbe felt oddly disappointed when he leaned in for one on his lips, only to be met with Sander softly grazing the corner of his mouth instead. 

“I’ll get some pastries to go with the croissants,” he smiled at Robbe and glared at Noah on his way. 

“I can’t let you go,” Noah said abruptly after he sat down in front of him. “Not like this, not to him.” 

His voice was calm, but Robbe didn’t like the implications of a comparison between him and Sander already. Everything was a competition, wasn’t it?

“It’s been 3 months, Noah, more than that since you’ve ruined what we had. I’ve already let you go,” Robbe told him.

“I don’t believe that. I don’t believe for a second you’re just willing to throw everything away, and for what? For him? He can’t give you what you want,” Noah said. His words seemed passionate enough, but his dark eyes seemed hollow to Robbe. He didn’t see the spark in them that he used to. The muttering conversations around them drowned him as he tried to compose himself. The anger and bitterness was swallowing him, but he wanted to make something very clear. 

“And what do you know about what I want?” he squinted his eyes at him. Noah parted his mouth for an answer before realizing he didn’t actually have one. So, Robbe let him sit in silence for a bit. His thoughts were swirling too much and he was scared if he said something, the conversation would go a different direction and it would be hard for him to yell at him in public, in this quaint little coffee shop filled with elders and families, lonesome book-readers and eager workaholics on their laptops. 

“Do you think in another life we could’ve made this work?” Noah asked. 

Robbe was surprised to hear the question, but he fired back another. 

“Do you remember what you said to me after I told you about the multiverse theory?”

While Noah stared at him dumbfounded, Robbe’s insides felt like they wanted to spill out. 

“You said it doesn’t matter. That there’s one universe and you could get me whatever I wanted in it.”

“I could,” he reached over to take Robbe’s hands. “I could get you anything you want. Name it and I can get it,” he said. 

Robbe sighed heavily and tore his hands away. Was he just never going to understand? That he can’t keep throwing money at every problem? That he can’t just buy him?

“That’s just it, Noah. It’s not something you can  _ get  _ and give to me.” Robbe shook his head. His eyes met Sander’s who seemed to be waiting for a signal from him for if he was done or alright as he stood in line. So, Robbe stood up, scraping the chair a little on the floor and grabbed his coffee. 

“Also...” he started, scrunching up his brows and pausing. “Leave Sander out of it. I’ve moved on. You should too.”

And with that he left the croissants for Noah, took long, fast strides to where Sander was, grabbed his hand despite the look of confusion on his face and walked out of the café. 

"Are you okay?" Sander asked. Robbe took a deep breath, finally feeling able to get fresh air to keep his head from dizzying. 

"I will be," he said. -

Under the navy-splattered sky, he walked through the door of his flatshare with bags in hand, stripping his puffy brown jacket and setting his maroon beanie on the coat hook. He took off his shoes and set them aside in the corner nook with all his roommates’ stuff. He didn’t make it two steps forward before he saw Milan in his face with a bright smile and eager eyes. 

“So, is it true? You and Sander are a thing now?”

Robbe couldn’t believe this. 

“Not even a ‘hi’ or ‘hello’? I’ve been out all day shopping for  _ your  _ party,” he smirked as he took out the wine from the bag and held it in his hand. 

“ _ Get-together _ ,” Milan rolled his eyes, immediately taking the bottle from him. “And they’re mostly all  _ your  _ friends,” he added as he walked the hall into the kitchen. Robbe followed him. 

Of course Milan would find out. The broerrrs all found out, which meant Aaron told Amber, which meant Zoë found out and that meant Milan pestering her until she told him just to get him off her back. Robbe didn’t mind, though. Not really. He was just worried about dragging this on with Sander if he didn’t want it. Especially if he didn’t want it. He was going to be here soon for the party - get-together - and they both tried to prepare for their friends bugging them about this, so he made a mental note to check in with him then. 

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Milan’s eyebrow rose. 

Robbe felt a heavy weight in his shoulders that he physically willed himself to lower as he quietly said, “Yeah, we’re a  _ thing _ .”

“Okay, but are you a thing or are you together? ‘Cause those are different,” he tilted his head with a nosy look. 

“Yeah, Milan,” Robbe groaned and rolled his eyes. “We’re together, it’s not that complicated.”

That was a lie. 

It was very complicated. 

And Robbe couldn’t understand why. They were friends. But now they’re not. Not to the rest of the world. And on top of it all, he didn’t know why his heart quickened its pace whenever Sander was mentioned, whether it was about their  _ togetherness  _ or not. 

“Geez, alright then. I’m really happy for you two. Now, help me set up,” Milan laughed. 

Shaking his head, Robbe did so, until there were knocks on the door and all their friends, the broerrrs and the girls, started piling in one by one. Zoë had finally finished getting ready and greeted everyone at the door, pulling them into hugs and leaning in for a kiss on the cheek or in Senne’s case, a kiss on the lips. 

In the low rumble of conversations and laughter in the living room, Robbe couldn’t help waiting for a certain bleached blonde to show up. He’d texted him earlier to get some more plastic cups on his way and that he’d pay him back and Sander had, of course, refused to accept the offer. There was a knock on the door and Robbe’s heart almost flipped at the sound as he got up to open it. 

“Finally,” he smiled at him holding the red cups. 

As he took them from his hands, his fingers brushing his, he saw Sander lean in for a kiss. His lips came close, but not close enough and landed softly on his cheek. He was avoiding kissing him, Robbe could feel it, and while it wasn’t as awkward as he thought it would be, he was lamenting it all the same. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with all this?” he asked him. 

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Sander gave him a reassuring smile with a hint of something somber. 

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” 

Robbe gave him a stern look and Sander gave one in return, a silent conversation happening. A moment passed where both of their mouths broke out into huge smiles and then they weren’t able to contain their laughter anymore. They both trailed to the living room where the rest of their friends sat, engrossed in whatever conversation they were having. 

“Oh my god, Robbe!” Jana beamed at him. “Sander! Congratulations! Jens told me the news,” she smiled at them, referring to their couple status. 

“Yeah, Jens can’t keep his mouth shut, huh?” Robbe smirked looking at Jens who just shrugged. 

“Hey, we literally bet on how long it would take you guys to get together, it’s not like it wasn’t obvious,” Moyo laughed. 

_ Was it? _ Robbe thought.  _ Was it that obvious?  _

“Well, we had a minor setback with Noah in the way, but it worked out in the end,” he heard Sander pipe up beside him. He looked over to see him smiling, putting on a whole show for his friends and it really made him wonder, once again, how he was so good at this. 

As they sat on the couch beside each other, he wrapped his arm around his waist while Sander placed his hand on his thigh. Robbe tensed up until he felt him give his knee a reassuring squeeze and he relaxed under the warmth of his fingers. They continued to sit closely as their friends asked them the routine questions for when people in your friend group get together. And they answered them all just like how they said they would in the beginning. Smiles came from all around and jokes were thrown in, too. While the conversation faded and transitioned from couples in general to movie dates to actual movies, Robbe felt Sander lean in as he listened. His hand was still warm where he left it and he could feel it sweat, cooling down when his fingers absentmindedly drew circles on his thigh, following the conversation and laughing along at all the right moments. He leaned in closer until his nose was brushing his cheek and he left a soft kiss there, but when Robbe pushed in further and wanted his lips on his, Sander leaned away laughing at their friends’ stories. 

He was teasing. 

And Robbe didn’t know how to feel about that. Didn’t really know why he wanted to kiss him at all. 

Sighing, he unwrapped himself from Sander and stood up as his friends kept talking. Sander looked up at him warily but Robbe just said, 

“I’m gonna get a drink. Do you want one?”

To which Sander shook his head, “No, it’s fine.” 

Strolling to the kitchen, he tried not to think too hard about it all. He was getting a little overwhelmed with his feelings and the walk to the empty kitchen was helping him clear his head for a bit. At least it was until Sander walked in a few seconds later. 

“Think I want that drink after all,” he said, taking a red cup from the counter where the coffee-maker sat. As Robbe stood there grabbing his own cup and pouring the alcohol in it, he motioned to his cup to fill it, too. It was a couple of moments of silence until Sander breathed in. 

“Imagine if we were actually dating in another universe,” his lips curved. 

“What?” Robbe looked up. 

“According to your theory,” said Sander, “There’s another universe where we’re actually together, right? This ‘fake dating’ thing would be so much easier.” 

Robbe stopped pouring and screwed the cap on the bottle, his movements slow and his mind lost in thought. 

“It would…” he said slowly. “But then we’d just be together,” he looked at him, his rich, brown eyes shifting over gleaming green ones. Sander just shrugged, grabbing his drink and taking a sip. 

“Multiple universes, yeah? Ones where we’re together, ones where we’re not even friends, ones where we never even met…” he took another sip. “Which one would you rather be in?”

Robbe continued to stare at him. His lips etched into a smirk, his eyes half lidded as he tilted his head back slightly. 

“Does this mean you believe in the multiverse theory now?” he asked. 

“Just answer the question.”

“Fine. But you have to answer mine after,” he gave him another stern look as Sander nodded. He then took a second to take his own cup into his hand so it wasn’t as awkward and daunting when he said, “I’d rather be in whatever universe you’re in. Doesn’t matter in what way, I’d just rather be wherever you are.”

“Would you come find me?”

“Yes.”

Sander was looking into his eyes and he couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Was that a weird answer? Was that too much? Because of course he’d find him, of course he’d go scouring the streets until he laid eyes upon him, peace settling in his chest when he did. He was his friend, after all. His best friend. 

“Fuck,” said Sander, eyes never leaving him. 

Robbe’s cheeks burned and he shook his head to get rid of the heat. 

“Okay, your turn. Do you believe in it now?”

“Yeah, I think I do,” Sander responded a little starstruck. Whether it was because of his answer or because he’d just decided to, Robbe didn’t know, but he laughed along with him nonetheless, the tension easing readily. 

They made it back to their friends and spent the rest of the evening staying closely side-by-side, brushing hair away from each other’s eyes and holding hands whenever they could, and touching each other in the smallest of ways wherever they could. 

When the evening finally ended, Robbe stood behind Milan to bid all his guests goodbye, his eyelids feeling droopy already. Sander was the last one left, lingering as Zoë stepped out with them as well to stay over at Senne’s for the night. 

“Can I crash here?” he asked Robbe. “I saw Zoë and Senne giving each other bedroom eyes and I know that means I won’t be able to sleep tonight,” he chuckled. Sure enough, Zoë and Senne were already wrapped around each other, having their lips and hands wander as the lust set in their eyes and their laughter. Robbe smiled since living with Senne had its perks, but it had its downs too. He turned to Sander, smirking now at the last part of his comment. 

“You never sleep anyways,” he said, referring to the countless nights Sander had stayed awake, fidgeting and squirming with thoughts running around his head. He’d always be awake at his desk, sketching, or pacing the room trying to calm his breathing in the dead of night and only in the dusk of morning could his head find solace on a pillow. 

“Fuck you,” Sander glared at him. “I’ll be quiet,” he said, his voice low. 

“I know,” Robbe’s expression softened at him and though he didn’t say “yes” to his question, it was implied anyway. 

When Milan finished his goodbyes and closed the door, he turned to see the two of them standing there with tired faces. 

“You’re staying tonight?” he asked Sander, to which he nodded. “Do you need an extra blanket?” Sander shook his head. “Let me know if you need anything,” he said, eyeing between him and Robbe. Then he walked off into his own room. 

Sander followed Robbe to his room since that’s where he stayed the night with him and Robbe could see him from the corner of his eyes, his attention on him taking off his watch and setting it on his bedside table. He was tired from socializing and he felt his internal clock calling him for bed, but Sander wasn’t the only one with thoughts swirling in his head, getting louder and louder, feeling like they were echoing out of his brain and into the walls. And apparently Sander heard them too as he asked,

“Are you okay?” 

He’d been asking that a lot and for a second Robbe thought maybe he meant their arrangement to get Noah off his back, but then he realized he meant Noah himself. He’d only left him in the coffee shop just yesterday, however that pain still felt raw in Robbe’s chest, sore and angry.

He nodded as he walked over to his closet under Sander’s watchful eye.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked. 

“Not really,” said Robbe. “Think I might just wanna sleep.” 

He pulled out Sander’s grey sweatpants and black Pink Floyd t-shirt that he’d left here one of the nights he had stayed. Robbe had washed them and Sander told him to keep them, in case he ever had to sleep over again, and now they were being put to use. Handing him the clothing, he walked by taking off his own shirt to change. They’d done this many times before, changing in front of each other but not really  _ in front _ of each other, always turning their backs as they casually threw a shirt aside. Tonight was no different. Not when Robbe was thinking about his conversation with Sander in the kitchen and his conversation with Noah at the cafe, thinking about how different they were and how it morphed into a bitter frustration of why it couldn’t work with Noah. Why he couldn’t have been with someone who cared, someone like…

“Am I someone that you’d get tired of? Am I really that boring?” Robbe abruptly asked. Sander looked up at him as he pulled down the last bit of fabric from changing his shirt. Maybe he did want to talk about it. “Am I just not good enough?” 

He looked at Robbe and let out a jagged sigh. 

“No,” he said. “You’re not boring and you are good enough.”

“Yeah, but you’re my friend, you’re supposed to say that. I just don’t understand why he didn’t care or why our relationship became something else. And what am I supposed to do after him, if I get with someone else? Are they just gonna get tired of me, too?” 

All his emotions were pouring out, all his thoughts and worries just spilling into a sudden panic. All Noah ended up wanting were material things and never the quality time Robbe wanted to spend with him. He felt it a waste in wishing that he would’ve changed, that he could give Robbe that. He felt like he’d become a person that was either annoying or dull, a prop in his own relationship. 

At this point he’d sunken into his bed, plopping down in the sheets, sad and heavy. Sander joined beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder and rubbing it in soothing circles. 

“Robbe, you’re not someone to get tired of,” he said. “You’re extremely smart and funny and you get really passionate about the things that interest you, and I’m not just saying that because I’m your friend. Hey, look at me,” he pulled his chin softly to get him to face him. “You’re enough.  _ He’s  _ the one who’s not. 

Robbe looked deeply into his eyes, his own burnt and brown, and Sander’s sincere and shining like emeralds. They looked like they were spilling truth again, instead of tears. Robbe looked down, his lashes fluttering while Sander’s thumb still traced his jaw. 

“Eight months. Eight fucking months I wasted on him,” he said quietly. 

“I know,” Sander let out a slight laugh. “I wish I could take back the six months I spent with Britt.” 

Robbe’s heart clenched at that. Britt was unfortunately someone that took Sander for granted as well. Ever since she had found out about him being bipolar, she had gone completely on overdrive, managing every little thing he had done. If it was his lack of sleep: bipolar, if it was too much sleep: bipolar, if he was annoyed for a day: bipolar. It was a lot to handle for Sander and it got to be too much for him, suffocating under her grip. 

“You didn’t deserve that,” Robbe said. 

“You know, I think she tried, she really did. But some people just learn something new and want to do things their own fucking way. It just wasn’t right and I’m glad she’s not in my life anymore,” he said looking down, brushing a piece of lint away on his sweatpants. 

“I’m glad, too,” Robbe put a hand on his arm. A moment passed.

“I know how you feel Robbe. Feeling like you’re not enough,” Sander said, shifting his legs so he could face him properly and take his hands. “But trust me, it isn’t true,” 

Robbe felt his knees bump into his and his thumb stroke his knuckles in gentle circles, his fingers cold yet soft. Sander wasn’t trying with words anymore. He spoke his feelings through touch anyway, always trying to get the message across. For Robbe, this message might take a while to get through, but he felt loved. Simple as that, he felt so, so loved. 

“I love you,” he said. He’d said those words before, both casually and seriously. This time he meant them wholeheartedly. 

Sander reached over and wrapped his arms around him, encasing him as Robbe’s hands made imprints in the fabric of the back of his shirt. He shut his eyes and though he wanted to cry, no tears came out. He just let himself be held, safe and warm. 

“I love you, too,” Sander muffled the words in his shoulder. And this time, he wasn’t sure how he wanted him to mean them. -

Robbe was in and out of sleep as he turned in his sheets. The bed beside him was empty and that could only mean Sander was at his desk, sketching. He could hear the scratches on the paper and it sounded like he was drawing with pen instead of pencil for quieter strokes. He hated when he tried to make things easier for him and he wished Sander would just listen to him whenever he told him he didn’t have to do that. He just wanted him to be able do things freely, to just exist. But his body and mind was too tired to let him know now, drifting back to sleep. 

It was around 4am when he awoke, eyes blinking in a blurry state. By now, he saw Sander beside him, fast asleep, his breathing deep. He blinked his eyes faster now to wake himself up more, remembering where he was and all the events of the day, hazily rushing back to him. Remembering Sander in his arms, remembering their conversations, remembering the way he was there for him, especially with this whole “pretending to date” thing.

His eyes shifted over him sleeping peacefully, his hair looking like fluffy clouds and his lips in a natural pout. Suddenly, he remembered that he’d wanted to kiss him. And that feeling was a strange one that Robbe couldn’t place. He’d been wanting to more and more now and he wished he could just ask Milan what was up with that, tell him everything from start to finish and have him help him with this churning in his stomach. But he was asleep. And Sander was asleep. And Robbe was here, awake with conflictions. 

They’d slept like this many times before, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t sometimes wonder what it would be like to reach out and run his fingers on Sander’s cheek, brush the hair out of his eyes, feel his plump lips under his thumb. What he would give to be able to hold his hand through the streets, show him sunshine chasing away the rain, make him smile, make him laugh. In moments where it’s just the two of them, he wanted to kiss away all his pain, have his skin under his palms, have him shaking at the touch and let him have the world at his fingertips. What he would do to love him, and be loved by him. 

Just as his fingers hovered over Sander’s cheek, he’d been overcome with a realization donning on him. 

Oh. 

_ Oh. _

He always had Sander by his side as a friend and it was the most comforting feeling. He had been there through it all with Noah and Robbe had been there with Britt, and all of a sudden he couldn’t even imagine a time when the two of them had supposedly been in love with other people. He didn’t know if Sander would feel the same. Robbe had said he loved him and that much was true, but maybe, just maybe… 

_ He loved him a little differently now.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I feel like the writing style went from 0-100 real quick but that's what I get for not really planning anything ahead haha sldkfslg I'll try to have the next two chapters out soon without such a long gap and I hope you enjoyed!!!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm sorry it's late again I had an exam sldfjsf Pls don't hate me but I've decided to add one more chapter just so things flow a little more haha also when I said mutual pining I meant MUTUAL PINING ssdkjfh also also during the club scene I kept listening to wasted love by Ofenback ft. Lagique cuz I feel like that fits the vibes with the lyrics and everything lol 
> 
> Please enjoy pining Sander (and wise Senne for his birthday) !

It had taken Sander three weeks to get over the nauseating, sickening feeling of seeing Robbe with Noah. 

When he had first got together with him, Sander didn’t know how to choke on the devastation, how to bite his tongue until he tasted blood, how to shove his true emotions back inside his chest, all bruised and broken so he could crack a smile, tired and defeated, just to muster up a “I’m so happy for you.” When he told him, he didn’t know how to deal with the heavy weight of his chest, that empty feeling whenever he sat alone thinking about Robbe. 

Because he had done that a lot. Thought about him. 

Sander’s problems with Britt were always looming and in the last few weeks of their relationship, he’d felt completely empty. He’d run on something, some sort of dream or placebo, run on it for so long that he just became barren in the end, devoid of any feelings towards her. And in those last few weeks, he’d instead been finding warmth somewhere else. Somewhere in the sunshine curls of a boy with deep brown eyes. So, he broke it off with her, for many reasons actually but this being a pretty big one, and he’d waited until it was the right time to tell him. 

He didn’t know if Robbe would feel for him what he felt, if he should take the chance and completely ruin their friendship, withering to awkward stares and awkward conversations until they both just stopped talking altogether. But he had felt _something_ from him. There was something there whenever Robbe would look at him, the way that he would smile at him, the way his eyes would linger just a little longer than necessary. However, Sander only had himself to blame when he couldn’t find the courage to tell him, always bailing at the last second. This went on for _two whole months_ and he wanted to kick himself when he saw that Robbe’s beautiful smile, the one he thought was reserved only for him, had been cast upon his lips to another dark-haired stranger. 

But even then, even with all the jealousy and hurt and sadness piling up in his heart, Sander didn’t have it in him to say anything about it. He couldn’t tell Robbe to leave Noah, ‘ _forget him and come with me’_ , how could he? Because after those first three weeks they’d begun dating, he finally saw the look in Robbe’s eyes and he seemed...he seemed really _happy_. 

And that’s when Sander had decided he couldn’t be this selfish. He’d drowned all his thoughts and feelings and he became quite successful in pretending he was over it. In fact, he’d become so concerned with making sure that he was a good _friend_ to Robbe that he’d thoroughly convinced even _himself_ that he was over it. He’d just come to a point where he thought Robbe and him weren’t a possibility.

But then they’d kissed, and it was all he could think about.

“You good?” he heard Senne’s voice float into his ears. Blinking once, he looked up at him in his grey hoodie holding a biscuit in his hand. 

“Yeah, why?”

“Because you’ve been dumping sugar in your _black_ coffee, might I remind you, for the past five minutes,” Senne said, taking a seat in front of him at the table by the kitchen. 

Sander looked down and sure enough his hands had automatically been taking spoonfuls of sugar from the sugar jar and pouring it into the dark liquid. _That’s new_ , he thought. He’d never done that before and he couldn’t even remember when his fingers curled around a spoon, absentmindedly putting sugar of all things into his coffee. He clinked the spoon on the cup and set it down on the table, shoving it away from him. 

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t really be having that much coffee anyway,” muttered Sander. 

Senne chuckled then looked at him attentively as he took the last bite of his biscuit. “Something on your mind?”

He considered saying something, but then a text lit up on his phone and he’d realized the time. It was 9:41 and while Senne didn’t have any classes today, free to lounge around, Sander didn’t have that luxury. 

“Just school and classes I guess, which is where I need to be right now actually,” he said, getting up from his chair while staring at his phone. 

“Sander…” he heard Senne call after him sternly. He looked back to see the look on his face, determined and firm. He let out a sigh. There was no getting past Senne with this kind of stuff. He just always knew. 

“I’ll tell you later,” he huffed at him, grabbing his bag by the front door. 

“ _Sander_ ,” said Senne with a lower tone. Sander looked at him with his eyes sharp and the corners of his lips twitching. 

“I promise,” he said. 

And with that he grabbed his keys and walked out into the hallway, still staring at his phone. 

The text was from Robbe. 

_Do you wanna hang out after classes?_

_I could bring my work if you’ve got projects or whatever_

As much as Sander wanted to spend time with him, it had been another week of them continuing their “fake-dating” and it was getting harder and harder. He was caught between being around his best friend and wanting so much more. 

_We could order pizza_ 👀

Sander sighed. So, that’s how it’s going to be. 

_Sander: why do you have to lure me in with food?_

_Robbe: bc food is ur fav and IM ur fav_ 😇

_Sander: need to consider if ur my face_

_Sander: fade*_

_Sander: fav* fuck_

_Robbe:_ 😔😔😔

_Robbe: ur MY fav_

_Sander: alright alright, pizza at my place_

_Sander: with my FAV_

_Robbe:_ 🥰

Clicking his phone closed at that, Sander sighed once more as he made his way to get to class. -

He sat at his desk, sketching away for school while waiting for Robbe. He’d been messing around with charcoal, getting his hands covered in the dark material, smudging here and there, concentration unwavering. The curtains let in faded light in the washed-out blues of his room giving him the peace and relaxation he needed. His fingers moved deftly, swiping across the charcoal paper, the strokes light at first then darkening as he went over them. He’d been getting to the smudging for shading when he heard a knock on his door. He glanced over to see Robbe in his blue hoodie and brown jacket, body halfway through the door frame.

“Senne let me in, said he was heading out,” he said. Sander nodded as Robbe took strides to his bed where he took off his jacket and threw it aside. Making one last stroke on his page, he turned to Robbe in his chair, leaning his elbow on the back of it, his cheek in his palm. 

“I was promised pizza,” he said looking at him, unimpressed with the lack of food in his hands. 

Robbe leaned back, his palms flat on the bed behind him, a smile curving on his lips. 

“I said we could order it.” 

“You order it, then,” Sander rolled his eyes and turned back around to continue on his drawing. There was a comfortable silence that took place once Robbe’s low giggles subsided and he almost wanted to turn back around just to see the look on his face, to see what he was thinking. But then he heard his voice. 

“So, Milan let me off the hook that night you stayed over, but now he’s asking questions,” Robbe deliberated. _Okay_ . “Personal questions.” _Ohhh._

Sander’s fingers stopped and gripped the charcoal. When he stayed over that night, they’d officially been out as a couple to everyone and staying over could have implied a lot of things, but they’d looked so tired, they’d been so tired, Milan _had_ to have seen that, right? The thought of Robbe and him sharing a bed like _that_ hadn’t even occurred to him. At least, none other than in his dreams maybe. 

“What did you say?” he finally turned to face him, eyes wide and curious. 

“Nothing,” Robbe shrugged sheepishly. “Told him it’s not any of his business.”

“And what did he say?”

“Nothing, just laughed and said ‘true’.” 

Sander nodded once more, his heartbeat slowing down, and just as he was about to return to his drawing again, he heard Robbe start speaking again. Quiet and timid. 

“I never got to thank you for doing this, by the way,” he said. “So, thank you.”

Sander’s heart almost skipped a beat once more with how sincere and shy he sounded. Robbe’s eyes were shining with gratitude. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” Sander said. “You know I’d do it for you.”

_I’d do anything for you._

“I know, but, thank you anyway. For everything.” 

Robbe’s smile was absolutely contagious, making Sander’s lips stretch into a wide grin. 

“You’re welcome.”

The two of them had stretched out on the floor of the living room, the ordered pizza half-eaten on the coffee table now, along with garlic bread and pop. They were laughing hard at something they couldn’t even remember anymore. It was one of those laughing fits where the second you stared at the other’s face, you’d start laughing more. They both looked away as Sander took a sip from his can, giggles settling to low chuckles. 

“Fuck you, I completely forgot what I was gonna say now,” said Robbe. 

“Sorry you lost a brain cell,” said Sander. “Also, where’s your work? You said you’d bring that.”

“I may or may not have left it at home.”

“Wow, you really need someone to remind you things,” Sander took another sip. 

“Everyone needs someone,” Robbe mumbled. 

“What?”

“‘Everyone needs someone, Robbe, the sooner you realize that the better,’ that’s what Noah said,” he clarified, rolling his eyes.

Sander’s fingers gripped the can now almost crushing it mid-air as he stopped to look at Robbe. He’d learned to let go of things in the beginning of their relationship but once it ended, the anger he felt for Noah making him feel insecure and unwanted burned every time something like this was mentioned. 

“You never told me that,” he said. 

“Yeah, because it’s bullshit,” said Robbe.

“ _No,_ because if you thought it was bullshit you’d have ranted to me but some part of you thinks it’s true, and Robbe, I’m telling you it’s not. Not like that.” 

He just opened another can of pop, the metal hissing as he pulled it back. The edge of his lips curved slowly when he went to take a sip. 

“Stop reading me like an open book. I’m trying to remember what I was gonna say,” Robbe smiled. 

Sander looked at him, eyes sparking with intensity. 

“Forget him,” he said, finally saying the words he’d been wanting to say forever. He couldn’t bring himself to say the rest. _Come with me._

And Robbe looked at him, his brown eyes warm, shimmering with truth and certainty. 

“He’s forgotten,” he told him. _I’ll come with you,_ he seemed to answer.

Their stares lingered for a while before Sander went in for more pizza, dipping it in sauce and taking a bite. He’d barely registered the condiment on the corner of his mouth until he felt Robbe reach over with his thumb to wipe it off of him and bring it to his own lips to lick. It was something he would have done if the others were around, something friends don’t really do. Sander stared at him in awe, his heartbeat insanely rapid. Robbe took a moment to realize what he’d just done since he’d done it so naturally. 

“Sorry, I...I got used to…” he stuttered. _Pretending,_ Sander’s mind filled in for him. Because none of this was real. Nothing they did outside of the moments of them alone, the kissing or the hand-holding or the intimate moments like this, none of that was real. But that’s what they’d agreed on, wasn’t it?

“What did I tell you about apologizing?” Sander cracked a smile at him. -

The week had slowly dragged on and Sander was thankful that the weekend was finally here. Though his plans of just getting some rest from the work of his classes and assignments were pushed aside when his friends had invited him to the club. It’s not that he minded going, he just wanted to maybe get some sleep and he’d started new meds which meant drinking was off the table, as well as caffeine. But once he’d heard that Robbe was going...well, he couldn’t help himself. 

So, that’s how he ended up here in this loud and flashy club that Senne had chosen. Normally he’d have better taste, but he told them all that they were here to have fun and not to worry about the rest. The broerrrs could agree with that, the girls on the other hand were reluctant. Sander didn’t really care. 

Once they were inside, ordering shots and cheering loudly that Senne was paying, he shuffled behind them, behind Robbe actually, holding his hands while wrapping his arms around him. He dug his face into his dark curls, smelling the shampoo in his hair as he placed a kiss on his temple. 

“Sander?” Jens called to him to ask what he wanted to order. 

“No drinks for me tonight,” he answered. Jens gave him a nod.

Sander felt Robbe turn around in his arms, their fingers still clasped together. His face got incredibly close, smiling as he brushed his nose across his. He leaned in further, his eyes looking down at their aim. But Sander just smiled, giving him a peck on his cheek instead. 

“You still don’t wanna kiss me?” Robbe asked in a low voice, smirking with his eyes still looking down. 

_So, he noticed huh,_ Sander thought. 

“I’ve kissed you this past week,” he said. 

“Not enough,” Robbe said, his voice almost cracked and pained. 

He grimaced at that. The only reason he wasn’t kissing him was because this was killing him. He didn’t want to keep kissing him under these circumstances, not when the taste of lips was something he wished he could have for real. Not when every time he kissed him, he lost his breath and he felt like spiraling because everything was a blur between real and unreal and he couldn’t tell if Robbe wanted it. Or rather _how_ he wanted it. 

Because if Robbe didn’t feel the same way… 

he didn’t know what he would do if he didn’t feel the same way. 

His lips grazed Robbe’s softly, his jaw clenching. It was short and sweet. 

“There,” he smiled. “Your kiss.” 

Not really satisfied with that, Robbe shook his head with a slight smile, but he accepted the kiss regardless. As Sander sat at the stool of the bar, cheek in hand, watching his friends converse, Robbe took a shot. He shook his head at the burn in his throat. 

“Slow down,” Sander smirked at him. The smile that Robbe returned to him was making him feel things, his stomach churning at the disheveled look he had, his dark eyes filled with liquored lust. 

“Come dance with me,” he grabbed his hands. “If you’re feeling up to it.” 

And when Sander looked up at him, at his smile, his eyes, his faded white shirt hanging loosely off of him, his fingers pulling, he really couldn’t resist. 

He followed him to the dance floor where the neon lights flashed across their faces which were filled with something alluring and tantalizing. Robbe put his hands on his shoulders and they let the music take over as they swayed to the beat. Sander felt his fingers tangle in his hair, twirling whatever strands he could reach. Their eyes never left each other and this felt so much more different than how they usually danced, if they danced together at all. Sander put his hands on Robbe’s waist as his grip in his hair tightened. Then he felt him walk slowly around behind him to the other side of him, his hand grazing across from his abs to his hips, the fabric of his black shirt wrinkling along the way. The look in Robbe’s eyes was playful but also...something more. 

_Unreal. Unreal. Unreal._

_Then, why did it feel so real?_

Sander grabbed his hands and spun him around as he let out a laugh and smiles broke out on both of their faces. He held him tight as he twisted Robbe to dig his face in the crook of his neck from behind him, his nose in his hair, his lips at his ear. Robbe turned around to face him, breathless and faded, his arms reaching over his neck, wrists hanging off his shoulders and his eyes half-lidded flickering to his lips. Sander found himself bringing his gaze down to Robbe’s as well. Their noses were brushing again, their mouths slack, breaths mixing. 

And then Robbe tried to lean in. 

And Sander stopped him. 

And the look in Robbe’s eyes broke Sander. 

“I’m gonna get a drink,” he told him, slowly pulling away from his arms and Sander didn’t know how to keep him there, how to not lose him in his grip. Sighing deeply, he made his way to the bar following behind him. 

He spent a while ordering a coke and having conversations with Aaron or Senne or Jana while Robbe spoke with Zoë or Jens or Luca. The whole time his gut was wrenching but he knew they both needed the space to cool down, to get over this. But in his conversation with Senne, he’d almost completely lost track of Robbe. He leaned over to look at the empty space where he’d been. Where was he? 

Excusing himself, he went to go look for him. He walked around until he spotted him splayed out on a lounge couch and he made his way over to him. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked him. 

Robbe had his phone in his hand, his fingers seeming to fiddle around on the screen. 

“I’m trying to text Sander,” he slurred his words. 

Sander laughed slightly and sat down next to him, shoving his leg over. 

“I’m right here.”

Robbe didn’t seem to fully acknowledge him. 

“Noooo, I have to tell him,” he scrunched his eyebrows, pouting at the screen. 

Sander rolled his eyes playfully. Drunk Robbe was definitely stubborn but he was also really cute. 

“Tell him what?” 

He suddenly laid his head in Sander’s lap, his hand closest to him grabbing the front of his shirt. He was also very touchy, very clingy. 

“I have to tell him I love him,” he said. “Sanderrrrrr I love youuuuu,” he held his phone up with the screen turned off and spoke into it as if doing that would text him this information. His hand on his shirt was still not letting go. Sander brushed the dark hair out of his eyes. 

“He loves you, too,” he smiled at him. 

“Noooo,” Robbe drawled lowly as he righted himself up again. He took a moment before throwing his head back on the couch. “And the worst part is, he doesn’t even want me. We’re supposed to kiss and date in front of others but what if…” 

He drifted off not finishing his sentence and Sander felt a lump in throat. He waited for him to continue and when he didn’t, he asked,

“‘What if’ what?” 

Even though Sander knew he was kind of drunk, the silence was still deafening. 

“‘What if’ what, Robbe?” he tried again to get his attention. Robbe finally looked at him with a smile crossing his lips and a slow realization of his presence. 

“Oh, there you are,” he said. 

Sander sighed, giving up. This was going to be a long night if he was trying to get anything out of him. The most he would get are affectionate touches and his arm clinging onto him for dear life. But then Robbe shifted in his seat to put a hand on his thigh and Sander froze. 

“What if…” Robbe continued, and Sander wasn’t expecting him to continue like this. “What if when we’re alone,” he trailed his thigh, “I wanted to do this.” 

Sander's breath hitched. He was absolutely losing it, the touch was searing, burning, he couldn’t form coherent thoughts. Robbe put his lips near his ear. 

“And what if I wanted to do this,” he kissed the spot right under his ear. “And this,” he brushed his lips lower on his neck. 

Sander couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him. He couldn’t believe this was happening right now. What even _was_ happening right now? He wasn’t- he couldn’t-

“What do you think about that?” Robbe whispered. His hand travelled higher up his thigh and Sander had to inhale and exhale through his nose. He swallowed hard and then tried to gather his thoughts. This was so unlike any night he’d ever spent out with Robbe. Sure he was clingy, but he was never like this. Each and every touch was scorching across his skin, hot breath against his neck, it was too much and not enough and it was…

It wasn’t right. Not like this. 

“I think,” Sander said sadly, swinging Robbe’s arm off of him. “You’re drunk.” -

When Sander had gotten home with Senne, his bones felt like jelly, having the music from the club reverberate through his whole body. He was extremely tired but he also felt really shitty. The events of tonight were going to live in his head and he knew he wouldn’t actually be able to get much sleep at all. He sighed as he threw his keys in the key jar. 

“How was your night?” Senne threw an arm around him. How was he not as drunk right now? 

“Could’ve been better,” he muttered under his grip. 

“Don’t tell me it was my choice of my clubs tonight. I don’t think my ego can handle that one more time,” Senne joked, shrugging off his jacket. 

“Your ego doesn’t need a boost right now,” Sander scoffed at him. “But it wasn’t the club. More like what happened at the club.” 

His eyes lowered and he could feel Senne looking at him waiting for an explanation. He stood there in silence for a while staring perpetually at the ground. 

“I’m in love, Senne,” he said.

It felt weird to say it out loud. 

“Of course, you are. Why do you sound so sad about it?” he smirked at him. Then his face dropped as he realized another option. “Unless...you’re not in love with Robbe.”

That was always strange, that Sander’s love for Robbe was a known fact to everyone but him. Stranger still that Senne would consider for even a second it wasn’t Robbe. 

“No,” he said. “No. I’m very much in love with Robbe, it’s just that…”

He moved over to sit on the couch where Senne followed him. taking a seat, too. He did promise him he’d tell him what was bothering him, but trying to put this into words was much more difficult than he thought it would be. He sighed. 

“Robbe and I aren’t actually together,” he told him and the look of confusion on Senne’s face begged Sander to go on. “He just wanted to get rid of Noah since he wasn’t getting the hint and he’d accidentally told him he was dating me and I...I offered to ‘fake-date’ Robbe in front of him, except that all our friends found out and we couldn’t really say anything and I feel like _shit_ , Senne,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. The words were rushing out now and he couldn’t stop them. 

“I feel like shit because I feel like I’m taking advantage or something because I’m in love with him.”

Senne took a breath, his eyebrows raising. Whatever he was expecting, he probably didn’t think it was this. He took the time to deliberate before speaking. 

“I think you should tell him,” he said simply. Everything was that simple for Senne. 

“But he’s my friend,” said Sander. “I don’t want to ruin things.” Though he felt he still might have after tonight. 

“How long have you felt this way about him?” 

“I don’t know, maybe over a year if I’m being honest,” he shrugged. 

“Then, your answer is right there.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sander,” Senne sighed. “If you’ve been in love with him for a year, then he hasn’t been your friend for a long time,” he shook his head. 

Oh. 

“Can’t he be both?” Sander asked. 

“He can. But that depends on if you tell him,” he answered. 

Sander just stared at his hands, his thumb tracing a particular line on his palm. Senne was saying it all like it was that easy. That telling him would solve all his problems. Maybe it would. Maybe if he told him he wouldn’t have to hold onto all this and it wouldn’t suffocate him. Wouldn’t make him feel like he was underwater or like the walls were closing in on him. 

“I’ll think about it,” he finally said. 

“Good,” Senne tapped Sander’s knee before getting up. “Now get some sleep, you idiot, you didn’t have to go to the club just for Robbe,” he shook his head, smiling. Sander wanted to punch him knowing that right before they had left, Senne had told him it was alright to stay home and that couples don’t have to do everything together. To which Sander had smiled responding that ‘You do if it’s Robbe. With someone so beautiful like that, you don’t really ever have a choice.’ And now that answer meant something else and he was teasing him. 

“Shut up,” he snapped at him as Senne laughed harder. 

As he disappeared around the corner, Sander couldn’t stop thinking about how true it was, though. With someone like Robbe, he could never choose anything or anyone else. He’d let him come over, he’d gone to the club with him, he’d pretended to be his boyfriend for him. Even with the confusing and conflicting feelings of his drunk confessions, Sander couldn’t really be mad at him. Hurt, yes. Mad, no. 

All he knew was that if it kept going like this...

_he wasn’t going to survive._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this one isn't the best but we're almost there!! Also despite me writing a bunch of drinking scenes, I actually don't know anything about alcohol so thank you sarah for reading that scene over <3 
> 
> You can come scream at me on tumblr about my poor music choices or in general if you want <33333


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI! I'm so sorry I'm late again, but this chapter was really hard to write thanks to wRitInG InSecUriTies and it also came out really long omggg slksdf this took so long because  
> 1\. I completely lost a hold of Sander's character  
> 2\. this is it guys, this is THE chapter and I'm really sorry if it doesn't live up to your expectations :'(  
> basically, I apologize for this whole chapter in advance but nonetheless, I do hope you enjoy!
> 
> P.S. I did switch out the order of the povs so it's a Sander pov again

The ringing in his ear slowly returned his consciousness, faded and barely there. 

“Sander? Fuck, Sander, I’m so sorry,” he heard on the other line as he picked up his phone, still groggy from the lack of sleep. He twisted from his position on his stomach to his back, squinting at the sunlight in his room. 

“Robbe?” he asked. “How the fuck are you awake so early?” 

They’d just left the club around 2am last night and he was comforted by the fact that Zoë and Milan were there to help Robbe. Zoë had given him a tight smile before leaving the club saying ‘Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him,’ and the look in her eyes told him she knew something had happened, though unsure what. Regardless, he had thanked her and went back home with Senne. He thought Robbe might have passed out by now and he wasn’t sure what time it was, but he knew that it was _early_. 

“I’m not. I’ve sobered up, though, and I’m just...fuck, I’m so sorry,” Robbe repeated. 

Sander took a moment to rub his eyes and let out a small chuckle. 

“Look, I know I’m irresistible and everything, so it’s okay if you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.” 

But Robbe wasn’t laughing.

“Robbe, I mean it, it’s okay. It’s fine,” his voice softened. 

The line was really quiet for a second and Sander thought he’d hung up, but then he heard him take a small breath, his voice tiny and low through the phone. 

“Can I come over?” he asked. 

It was a Sunday morning and Sander had planned to get work done at some point, not to mention getting some physical distance to keep him from losing his mind. But Robbe had sounded so small, so sorry, just needing some consolation, some faith to latch onto that he would accept his apology. And he _would_ . He _did._

“Yeah,” he breathed out. 

He tapped his phone absentmindedly on the sheets after Robbe finally hung up. How was he going to have him here and not be distracted, completely flooded by his warmth? How was he not going to be able to think about last night? Robbe had sounded like he just regretted everything, like he had been mixing up what’s real and what’s fake in his drunken state. Sander didn’t know what to make of all of this and instead just zoned out, staring at the ceiling for the entirety of the twenty minutes it took for him to reach his apartment. 

When he heard the doorbell, he got up, throwing on his grey sweatpants and a white shirt overhead. He opened the door to see a remorseful and tired Robbe in his brown jacket, his dark grey hoodie, and his red beanie on his head. The bags in his eyes were starting to sag and the corners of his lips were downturned. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all making Sander’s heart clench. 

“You really mean it?” Robbe asked. 

“Yes.”

He didn’t have to wonder what he was asking. 

“Then, can I be selfish for a minute?”

“Yes.” 

_Whatever it was, the answer was yes._

Sander watched him kick his shoes off and quickly walk into the direction of his room. With his bare feet treading lightly behind, he followed him. He watched him walk up to the edge of his bed and plop down into the white sheets without even bothering to take off his jacket. The bed shook from impact and a small laugh escaped Sander as he leaned on the doorframe of his room, looking at him. He thought he’d probably fallen asleep right there and then, but Robbe turned his head slightly and muffled into the pillow,

“Don’t ever let me drink again.”

Sander smiled wearily, his lashes fluttering to look down and his lips pursing to stifle the smile now. He carefully stepped towards the bed. He took off Robbe’s beanie and set it on his bedside table and pulled the covers over him. Then, he got himself under the covers, too and pressed against him, soaking in the warmth. 

“Sleep, Robbe,” he whispered. 

He set an alarm for a few hours from now, needing to get up to finish his assignments. He was sure Robbe would have work to do as well. But for now, all they had to worry about was getting some much needed rest. He could hear Robbe’s breathing become less shallow and as he lulled himself to sleep, his thoughts drifted to his shiny, brown curls, his deep brown eyes, the lines that formed whenever he smiled, and the freckled constellations across his cheeks. If Sander was going to dream of him even when he was right here, then he definitely wasn’t going to survive. 

  
  


Sander had awoken before him, lying on his back while Robbe was still lying on his stomach beside him, his hands clutching the pillow. He looked at him and reached over to where his hand lay, softly brushing the veins with the back of his fingers, nails just barely grazing them. He did this lazily for a bit as he looked nowhere in particular. Suddenly, he felt Robbe start to stir. 

He opened his eyes to Sander’s fingers still leaving butterfly trails across his skin, and if he thought anything of it, he didn’t say it. Then, he let out a small groan and shifted in the sheets. His jacket had been taken off and thrown somewhere on the floor at one point in his sleep and now he just lay there in his grey hoodie, soft and warm. He swallowed before speaking, his voice still worn out and tired. 

“I really am sorry,” he said. 

Sander kept his fingers there, tapping lightly now. Words were taking time, but he knew Robbe would need them soon. 

“I know,” he replied. “It’s okay.”

Robbe twisted himself to his side, taking the hand that he was brushing and using it to scratch his nose. Then he laid it back down, eyes darting between their hands and he could’ve sworn it was like he wanted his fingers on his skin again. 

“I told Milan and Zoë we’re not together,” he said quietly. 

“I told Senne, too.”

Robbe nodded. 

“Do you want to stop?” 

Sander could see the look in his eyes, tentatively searching his own. He didn’t know what he wanted him to say. Stop what, exactly? Pretending? Because none of this was pretending for him. But what if Robbe wanted to stop? 

“That’s...hard to answer,” he whispered. 

Robbe nodded once again and he didn’t know what he understood of that, what he was so sure of. 

“Can we give it one more week?” he asked. 

And Sander’s heart lit up, glowing brightly in his chest. It was like a crack of light where hope escaped and he couldn’t shove it back in. Here he’d thought this was coming to an end (it inevitably would), but here Robbe was saying it didn’t have to end just yet. He’d have one more week to build up the courage to tell him just like Senne said. 

He nodded a yes. 

Robbe turned on his back now, the covers disarrayed, his hoodie lifting up, exposing a sliver of skin. Sander laid his hand on his stomach, wrinkling his shirt. Both of them stared up at the ceiling now. 

“Our friends are gonna hate us,” snorted Sander, referring to their soon-to-come countless displays of affection and then their impending ‘breakup.’

“Yeah, I know,” Robbe let out a slight laugh. —

Standing in the kitchen, Sander was feeling a little out of place at the flatshare this time. It was buzzing with conversations and laughter, sounds of glasses and forks clinking. The lights had been dimmed and Zoë had set up the fairy lights she’d found in Robbe’s room, spreading them around the living room. She and Senne had been getting up every once in a while to refill drinks or offer more food while Milan talked about the cool photography on an Instagram profile with Jana, Luca and Amber, sitting on the couch. Jens had spread himself on the other couch laughing with Moyo and Aaron around the floor about new skating tricks. And Robbe was talking to Yasmina about bio labs and classes, things of interest to him like “that article on the newest gene splicing technology” or how “phylogenetic trees are always a mess.” 

Things of interest to Sander were never narrowed down like that. He was into science and art and photography and music and history and everything around him. He could find something of interest in it all. There wasn’t really _one_ _thing_ that was his. Or maybe there was, but it had slowly diminished leaving him to dip his toes into everything he came across, never fully submerging himself. 

He realized he’d been standing with his hand around a glass of orange juice for a while and that’s when he saw Robbe come up to him from the corner of his eye. 

“What are you doing here all by yourself?” he smiled warmly at him, reaching over to put a hand on his shoulder. It was a comforting touch. 

“Nothing,” he smiled weakly back at him. “Getting some juice for Yasmina,” he lifted the glass. 

Robbe gave him a look, the one where it seemed like he could see right through him, the one that bored at him until he relented and told him whatever was bothering him. His hand on his shoulder hadn’t left, rubbing soft circles. Then, his eyes looked down at his shirt, his lashes fluttering as his brows scrunched and recognition came through to him. 

“Is this your Bowie shirt?” he lifted the fabric. Sure enough, Sander was wearing his black Bowie t-shirt, the face faded, over his white full sleeve. It was laundry day and he had literally almost nothing to wear except for this shirt that he dug out from the depths of his closet. It was from his Bowie-loving phase from a year ago, a relic of the past now. He had hoped he could slip by Robbe without him noticing it when he first arrived here with Senne, but of course he was bound to notice at some point. 

“Yeah, I didn’t have anything else to wear,” he said. “And before you say anything, I had to scavenge the _entire_ closet for this. Don’t think too hard,” he added with a glower. 

“I wasn’t saying anything,” Robbe surrendered his hands with a suppressed smile. 

“You’re thinking it,” Sander flickered a glare.

He knew that Robbe had been waiting for the day this obsession would spring back up somehow, but he just never got a chance to get back into it. And quite frankly, it brought back memories he didn’t want to think about and he hoped that Robbe would understand that. 

Thankfully, for now he did and he didn’t say anything more. Just gave him a look he couldn’t quite comprehend, his lashes dipping low and his smile becoming infectious. His hand on his shoulder released the fabric, but his free hand grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him towards the rest of their friends. 

As they made their way to the couch, Yasmina gave them a smirk upon her maroon lips, taking the glass from Sander.

“Took you long enough,” she said. 

Sander just shrugged and nodded towards Robbe who still had his hand on his shirt and brought them down to the couch. He wrapped his arm around him as Robbe’s arm came around his waist. 

“We were kinda busy, right babe?” Robbe curled his fingers around the base of his neck, getting caught in his hair. And Sander couldn’t get the way he called him that out of his mind. It was almost word for word what he’d said to Noah that night at the club. He’d called him _babe_ plenty of times the past few weeks too, and he just melted at the endearment each time. It left him wishing he was in the universe where he called him that forever.

“You’re busy a lot these days,” a smooth voice teased. 

Sander turned his head to see Jens with his lips curving up, the glint on his ring flashing as he took a sip of his drink. Suddenly all the attention was on him and Robbe and all he could do was sit him in his lap and smile with his arms wrapped fully around him. He pulled him closer leaning back as they both laughed with scrunched up faces and Robbe’s hand came up to grip Sander’s so he wouldn’t fall over. 

“What can I say, he’s my favourite person,” he pulled him even closer in his bear hug. “My angel,” he placed a kiss on his cheek. _Angel_ could never fully describe what Sander thought of him, but he found that it came quite close. They smiled as laughter grew around them from all their friends. 

“You’re making me feel really single,” Jens shoved a pillow to them as he smiled, too.

Sander felt Robbe place a chaste kiss to his jaw as they all laughed once more. The conversation started drifting back to differentiated groups, bits and pieces separated here and there. Robbe was quiet for a few moments and at first he thought he was just listening to everyone around him, but then he saw him looking down with a smile on his face. 

“I like it when you call me that, by the way,” he said softly, eyes not quite willing to meet him. Sander wasn’t sure if this was meant just for him or if he was saying it for show. But everyone around was too loud, too fragmented, to be listening to them. He looked at him, brows furrowing momentarily as he tried to connect the words in his brain instead of his heart. 

“Call you what?” he asked. 

“Angel,” said Robbe.“It sounds nice.” 

He still wasn’t looking at him, his smile growing bigger as he casually traced shapes across his knee. Sander had called him that twice before, once when they were at the skatepark and once in front of Zoë at his apartment. Sometimes it would just slip out. He didn’t think that it was enough for him to notice.

“I can call you angel whenever you want.” 

“Yeah?” Robbe looked up at him, hopeful. 

“Yeah,” he smiled. 

  
  


As the night went on, the atmosphere shifted to an even more comfortable one. Yasmina had migrated over to where Jana was speaking with Milan. Jens and Moyo had moved to talk in a corner so that Amber and Aaron could continue with their budding affections, making out on the couch and Zoë and Luca were having a conversation in the kitchen. By now Sander felt restless on the couch, so he got up, pulling Robbe with him by the hand and leading him past Milan who gave them a knowing look. Robbe just smiled at him.

He then asked Sander to get his phone that was charging from his room and he let his hand go as he walked towards it while Robbe joined the conversation with Milan. 

Senne had just come out of the bathroom, closing the door with his lips curving cheekily. 

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“Losing my mind,” Sander muttered as he walked past him. 

He found Robbe’s phone charging on his desk and separated the wire from it. The screen immediately lit up with a picture of Robbe and Sander with their arms wrapped around each other. He smiled at it as he walked out in a daze. 

“What happened to telling him?” he heard Senne. Looking up, he clutched the phone harder. 

“I’m getting to it,” he said. 

“You know, the longer you wait, the worse it’s gonna be. What are you gonna do once you ‘break-up’?” 

“I’ll go dig a hole, sit there and cry,” he deadpanned.

“Sander,” Senne scolded. 

“I know. I’m just waiting for the right-“

“Hey,” Robbe’s voice drifted near them. They both stopped to look at him. “Can I steal my ‘boyfriend’ for a sec,” he winked at Senne. 

Sander saw the look Senne was giving him and he just stared back slightly shaking his head in disbelief for being this obvious. Senne smiled and looked at Robbe. 

“He’s all yours,” he said as he scooted behind them and across the hall. 

Robbe took the phone from him and grabbed his hand. 

“Noor’s here,” he said. 

Sander let out a sigh. “Finally.”

He’d been waiting for his cool, artsy friend to show up so he could ask her about the newest spray location or that professor she had last year that was extremely difficult since they went to the same school or to just ask how she’s been doing. She was a friend of Britt’s and it was true that after their break-up tensions had been high, but he chose to remain friends with her because even after it all, none of it was really her fault. 

Following Robbe to the door, he squeezed his hand tighter. 

“You made it. I was starting to worry your scooter broke down or something,” Sander smirked at Noor who was just taking off her black jacket. Her dark hair shook as she shrugged it off and the piercing in her septum dangled with the movement. 

“It’s not a- ugh,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. Then she smiled at Robbe. “I don’t know how you deal with him,” she said as he shrugged. Then, she did a double take squinting her eyes lower at Sander’s shirt and pointing a finger. “Is that…” 

“Don’t ask him about it,” Robbe let out a chuckle as Sander started ushering her in to join the rest of them. 

“As long as he has the one I gave him, I’m fine,” she laughed. 

He had to roll his eyes at that. _Of course,_ he still had the Bowie shirt she gifted to him. Somewhere. Pulling her further into the living room, he hoped he could divert the conversation to other things tonight. He almost forgot Robbe was trailing behind them when he called him. 

“Sander?” 

He whipped his head back to give him his attention. Robbe was sporting another one of his shy smiles, eyes sparkling and toes bouncing. It made his knees go weak. 

“You look good in it,” he said, referring to the shirt. —

His fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard, typing a string of words until he halted. He dragged both of his forefingers across his thumbs, thinking and waiting for the next words. Drawing and sketching was as easy as it comes, but for an Art History essay, suddenly everything was hard to articulate. As he licked his lips, he felt Robbe’s eyes on him. 

“I know you’re staring,” Sander said as he typed one more word. 

He heard his giggles from his bed where Robbe lay with his textbook open. He didn’t answer him and instead just kept his eyes down, the smirk on his face relentless. 

Sander sighed. “ _What_?”

“You’re wearing the shirt that Noor gave you,” Robbe finally gave in. He was indeed clad in the grey shirt with a red lightning, symbolic of David Bowie, that she got him. 

“Yeah, she FaceTimed me and asked to see if I actually have it,” he told him as a matter-of-fact.

“Oh, so you listen to Noor and not me?” Robbe tilted his head, pouting and giving him a look as if pretending to be offended. What _was_ it about Robbe and his Bowie shirts? 

“That’s not-“ he huffed. Then he smirked. “Here, I’ll take it off right now if you want.” Just as his fingers touched the hem of his shirt, he heard Robbe mutter,

“I didn’t say that.”

He chuckled at his reaction, all flustered and shy and though he couldn’t see the pinkish tint to his cheeks, he knew Robbe was feeling heat there. 

“It’s just,” Robbe started again. “That’s a good thing Sander, that you’re getting back into Bowie,” he said.

So, this wasn’t just about his shirts after all. His fingers twisted the fabric on the hem now. 

“I’m not,” said Sander. 

“Why?”

“You know why,” he gave a frustrated sigh, shaking his head and wanting to dismiss the thought altogether. 

Okay, so maybe Robbe wasn’t the only one with remnants of insecurities left from his past relationship. 

_Sander had been obsessed with David Bowie. He had found comfort in his music and he became an absolute fan of him. His music gave him an escape and took him to a whole other world, making him feel like if he had to live in his own convoluted mind, maybe Bowie could join him and he wouldn’t feel so alone._

_Then, when he first started dating Britt, it had apparently become a problem. She’d been fickle around other people and it was ‘Come on, Sander, no one wants to listen to that’ with an innocent roll of her eyes, ‘Maybe you’re too obsessed?’ with a smirk and a tilt of her head, and ‘You’re going on about Bowie again?’ with a sweet kiss on the cheek, but a resigned sigh from her lips._

_Sander wasn’t one to let people get to him, but six months of that, so subtly creeping up on him, had worn him down. She probably hadn’t even realized she was doing it. And now every time Bowie was mentioned he felt he had to drown the impulse to burst with excitement. He was a neutral fan. He liked Bowie a_ normal _amount._

_But he wasn’t as convincing to Robbe who had seen right through him and tried multiple attempts to make him feel the same passion for Bowie again. However, all Sander’s mind let him feel was a bittersweet aftertaste every time he had anything to do with it._

He could feel Robbe’s warm eyes on him again as he sat in silence for a while. From the corner of his eyes, he saw him chewing on his lips and deciding on what to do or what to say next.

“Can we try something?” he was surprised to hear Robbe say. Normally, he’d be showering him with comforting sentiments, but he seemed to understand that hadn’t really worked much in the past. Not when Sander had already been so set in his ways and refused to hear him out. “Can we listen to a Bowie song but just for one minute?” he asked.

Sander looked at him with his eyes hesitant yet sparking with curiosity. When Sander looked at Robbe, he saw him apprehensive about his approach, his teeth still gnawing on his bottom lip. But his brown eyes were filled with warmth, such hopefulness, softly tempting him into a wonder. 

He nodded slowly. 

Robbe got up from the bed and searched for Sander’s earphones. Then, he crouched down next to him, putting one earbud in his left ear and reached out to give him the right one. He searched through his phone for the Spotify playlist that Sander sent him once before and squinted his eyes as he chose a song. 

“Here, I’ll stop it right after a minute,” Robbe said after setting his phone down on the desk, his finger hovering over the play button. Once he gave him the _ok_ , Robbe pressed play and the sounds of “Heroes” drifted into his ears. 

He sat there listening to the song with Robbe beside him and let the lyrics sink into his skin, having it crawl with goosebumps. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of familiarity flow through him. He was almost getting lost in it when the sound cut abruptly and it was like he was pulled out of a trance. Robbe had said one minute and he couldn’t believe that minute was over before it even began. 

“See, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Robbe smiled softly. 

No, it wasn’t bad. It wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was like coming home. 

Still Sander couldn’t shake the feeling of doubt. 

“You say that now,” he started shaking his head. “But once I start going on and on and on about- 

“Sander,” Robbe interrupted firmly, grabbing his hand and trying to search for his eyes. Once he found them he said, “That has _never_ bothered me. Ever. And it shouldn't bother you or anyone else and if it does, screw them,” his voice lilted higher in assurance. 

His hand gripped his tighter, tracing the hills of his knuckles. “If I’m enough, you’re not too much,” he continued. 

And yet it was just so hard to accept. 

He wasn’t like Robbe where it was just easy to accept the words. Saying them to others was easy, hearing them himself was a different story. 

“Maybe I just lost interest. Maybe I got caught up with uni and got busy. Have you ever thought about that?” he shrugged, still trying to play this off. 

“Have _you_ ever thought that maybe that’s _so unlike you_? So unlike the Sander Driesen that doesn’t give a shit about what people think?” Robbe’s voice was even, but challenging. “You like something, you latch onto it. You want something, you go for it. I don’t know what-“ he cut himself off with a sigh. He looked to the side as he chose his words carefully. His voice softened when he looked back at him. 

“Whatever she said to you, she’s wrong.”

Sander hated how true that was, that he was always one to go for what he wanted and now he wasn’t. His jaw clenched as he looked down and put a hand over top of Robbe’s. He took a while before he spoke. 

“Just...just give me some time,” he whispered. 

Robbe seemed to understand that. He closed his attentive eyes and nodded solemnly. He squeezed his hands one more time before getting up and trudged over toward his bed again. He laid down and went back to his books occasionally smiling at him and Sander’s heart felt it was about to burst out of his chest with how endearing this boy was. He couldn’t believe he was his friend. And while some part of him wanted more from Robbe, another part thought it completely fine if this was how it would be for the rest of their days. If he couldn’t have him one way, at the very least he could find comfort in having him this way. Still filled with warmth and care and love. -

“I don’t wanna bike back home,” said Robbe. It was nearing midnight and they’d spent the whole day in Sander’s room just catching up on school work and being as productive as they could be. Save for the odd distractions of throwing balled up paper at each other or talking about news on a show or celebrity and heading to the kitchen to get food, they’d gotten pretty far. Robbe’s books were still lying all around Sander’s bed just as he was finishing up his essay and his ears perked up at his remark. 

“So, stay the night,” Sander said. 

“I’ve got class tomorrow and all my clothes are back at the flat,” sighed Robbe looking at the ceiling and stretching out his arms and legs on the bed. He was still in his jeans and green sweater. 

“Fuck it. Skip,” Sander’s eyes gleamed at him. Now Robbe sat up giving him a hesitant look, but it turned into a look of defeat.

“Fine. I could probably get more done that way,” he said. 

There was a nerve-racking silence as they both sat unmoving and unsure what to do now. Robbe took his phone out to text Zoë and Milan and Sander sat there bumping his fists on top of one another. He didn’t know why he felt so tense now, but he figured it was probably just him. Nerves appearing out of nowhere, a churning in his stomach, it was probably just normal anxiety that Sander couldn’t really explain. He then rubbed his hands together and blew out a breath. 

“I’ll get you some clothes to sleep in,” he said, getting up from his chair and cracking his spine with a much-needed stretch. 

“Okay. I’m not really all that tired, though,” said Robbe as he hit send and clicked his phone closed. “Hey, Sander?”

“Yeah?”

Robbe dropped his phone in his lap and his fingers played with the collar of his sweater as he stared up at the ceiling still, his eyes darting, his teeth biting his bottom lip. “I-uh…” 

Sander watched him contemplate something, though he was uncertain what. In the end, Robbe just shook his head, closing his eyes and sighing instead. “Nevermind. Thanks,” he said. 

Nodding, Sander decided to let this one slide and made his way toward his closet. He was pulling out a t-shirt and sweats and his heart sped up as he realized why he was so nervous all of a sudden. The apartment was empty with just the two of them and Senne had gone out with his friends for the night. It was just the two of them. And it would be the perfect time to tell him how he really felt. But that could ruin things. Robbe had just gotten out of a relationship and he’d just gotten over said relationship. What if he wasn’t ready for another one? One with _him?_

Shaking his head slightly at the thoughts, he threw the clothes on the bed next to Robbe. 

“I’m gonna make coffee, do you want some?” he asked and once Robbe nodded, he gave a small smile and headed for the kitchen. 

He was fine on the outside while putting the filters in the coffeemaker and getting it all ready to press the button and wait for the brewed coffee, but his mind was an absolute mess of a disaster. He couldn’t really focus much and it all felt too overwhelming. Just as he put the bag of coffee grounds back into the cabinet, Robbe made his way into the kitchen with his steps light and a smile on his face. He easily hopped onto the counter beside Sander. His legs dangled with his loose jeans and his dark green sweater sat perfectly snug on his shoulders as he gripped the edge of the counter. 

“Noah stopped texting me, by the way,” Robbe said in a quiet voice. 

“Thank God,” Sander scoffed. “That’s good, though. That’s really good,” he said, getting milk and sugar. There was a moment of silence while Robbe tucked his neck in shyly and kept smiling almost privately to himself. 

“Yeah, he uh, he stopped messaging me a while ago actually.”

“Oh,” said Sander in some sort of high pitched cadence he couldn’t recognize in himself. If he’d stopped messaging a while ago, that meant they could’ve been done with this so much earlier and Sander didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened if that was the case. 

“I mean, he’s not a problem anymore, but our friends were, so I didn’t really tell y-

“No, don’t worry,” Sander cut him off. “We agreed on one more week, so…”

_So...now what?_

The whole reason they’d been fake dating was out of the picture completely and now they just had to worry about letting their friends know this was all just a farce, a fabricated make-believe that had Sander wishing it was anything but. 

“So...how do we tell them?” Robbe’s eyes glimmered at him as he nervously chewed on his lip. Sander let out a slight chuckle.

“Would it be bad if we never do?” he smirked, only half-joking. The smile on Robbe’s lips was enough to get his heart racing again. 

“Might as well get pretend-married, too. We’ll be seventy-four and they’ll still think we’re an item,” he laughed. 

His laugh was a shimmering giggle, slight tones of a tease somewhere in there. It made Sander’s mind spin now, wheels in motion that he couldn’t stop if he tried, reminders that he attempted to ignore. _He doesn’t want this with you. He’s joking around. You’ll lose this comfort of joking around._

Every few seconds, with every movement, as he took steps to lean against the kitchen table, his mind spiraled. _If you tell him, it’ll ruin everything. Everything’s so good right now. You’ll ruin it._

Still, he looked up to ask again,

“Would it be so bad?”

He was pretty sure his own eyes were on the verge of vulnerability, something on the edge of a confession. But he saw Robbe’s eyes glint with teases, flirty banter on the tip of his tongue. 

“Hmmm, not for you, I’m your favourite person after all,” Robbe giggled once again and Sander wanted to shut his mind off and for once just let his heart do the talking.

“That’s true, _angel,_ ” Sander’s lips curved up at him, calling him what he’d been told to call him. 

A beat. 

“Keep saying things like that and you’re gonna steal my heart,” Robbe tilted his head back, eyes half-lidded, lips mirroring his. And Sander didn’t know why, but he felt bold tonight. 

“What if I want to steal your heart?” he smirked at him, eyes sparkling under the kitchen lights. 

Robbe gripped the counter tighter now, averting his eyes for a second before meeting them with Sander’s. A small smile stretched across his lips.

“Then, be careful with it,” he said softly. -

  
  


The coffee finished brewing and there was a strange silence between them now. Sander couldn’t quite place it. They’d gone from being extremely emotional to flirting (?) to this fiery tension looming in the air and he wanted to just sink into himself with how quiet it was now. Robbe glancing at him every once in a while wasn’t helping either. He still sat there on the counter looking good as ever, his dark hair tousled, his eyes shining and at some point between Sander reaching into the drawer next to him for a spoon for the sugar and reaching over to the cabinet above Robbe for cups, their gazes held for a second. 

He could’ve sworn Robbe’s eyes flickered to his lips for a moment and all he could think of was what kissing him right here right now would mean. But it had happened so fast when Robbe leaned in that Sander could only think one thing right before their lips met.

_Ruin it. Fucking ruin him._

His lips pressed against Robbe’s, moulding into him. It was a kiss that lingered, slow and supple, one that made him lose his breath. He _knew_ he would literally always lose his breath when kissing him. He tried to breathe in through his nose and suddenly his heart connected to his mind and he was thinking again. Thinking about what this meant. He pulled away abruptly, leaving Robbe in a daze. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said, turning away to face the kitchen table and put his hands on the wood. 

“What?”

He heard the confusion in Robbe’s voice, the slight crack. 

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” Sander took a shaky breath. It took moments before he turned back around to face him. “When we first started this thing, I thought I was fine. I thought I’d gotten over you and it wouldn’t be a problem. Except now…” he faltered. Fuck, he was never good with words. But he had to tell him. He took another deep breath and he looked into Robbe’s warm, brown eyes, such endearing eyes, and he told him what he’d been holding onto for so long. 

“I love you, Robbe, so much, but I’m also really _in love_ with you. I’ve been in love with you for a whole year. And you probably don’t feel the same way or maybe you’re just confused with this whole fake-dating thing or caught up in the moment, but that’s fine. Really. I just…” he sighed. “I just needed you to know.” 

Robbe stared at him for some time, unable to really form words it seemed. Finally, he got his bearings and his eyes glistened. 

“And you just, decided I don’t feel the same way?” he asked. 

“It’s okay if you don’t,” said Sander. 

Robbe slowly pulled himself off the counter and brought his hands close to his own face. Whether he was frustrated with him or Robbe himself, Sander couldn’t tell. His eyes were almost sparkling with tears as he looked up for a second with his mouth open, trying for the words to come out. 

“I’ve literally been going crazy thinking about how to tell you the same. I was so sure you didn’t want me, especially not after that night at the club.” 

Sander couldn’t believe this. 

“I thought you were drunk,” he said quietly. 

“I _was_ ,” Robbe’s lips curved. “But not one word of it was a lie.” 

Robbe took a step closer and Sander had to swallow, his throat parched and dry. 

“I didn’t want to take advantage of you,” Sander said looking down. Not only at the club, but in general under the circumstances of fake-dating.

Now, Robbe had taken all the steps and in a blink of an eye his hands were on his face, looking at him as Sander’s hand instinctively reached up to trail the skin on his wrist, holding it. His forehead leaned tenderly against his, brown hair caught in snow-like strands.

“You weren’t. You didn’t,” Robbe said. “I didn’t want to take advantage of you, either.”

“You didn’t,” Sander repeated back. 

He could feel Robbe’s fingers on his face and neck, all the hair standing on end now, goosebumps as his face got even closer. His touch was both equally comforting and maddening. 

“I’ve been trying to get closer to you, but I felt you pull away each time. I didn’t think-I didn’t know if-“

Robbe took a breath. 

“I’m so in love with you, too.” 

Sander felt his hands tangle in his bleached hair, the ends blackening slowly now. Somewhere in his mind, he felt it was all a dream and he was too tired and Robbe wasn’t really here, saying all this. But he felt his presence in front of him, his weight leaning heavily, his entire being slowly melting into him. They stood in silence and swayed gently to fit between each other comfortably. Robbe brushed his nose across his ever so softly, his lips just barely grazing his. 

“Sander,” he whispered, his voice just a slight crack above crying out for him. And Sander wanted to disintegrate, his legs almost giving out. “If you don’t fucking kiss me right now…” 

_So, he kissed him._

He kissed him tongue and cheek, his jaw clenching, his eyebrows furrowing. He gave it his all into this kiss that he’d imagined a hundred times over. His hands found their way to his waist and he pulled him in even closer, practically falling backwards if it weren’t for the table keeping his balance. Their smiles and laughs interrupted the kiss, but they quickly dived back in for more. Robbe sighed into his mouth and Sander thought he’d never heard such a pleasant sound. 

His heart was about to topple and spill out of his chest if it kept beating faster. He couldn’t believe he got to have Robbe like this in his arms, head tilting, letting out sighs of contentment. His hands slipped into his sweater and he trailed the curves of his back, up and up towards the blades of his shoulder and he pulled him closer, closer. It was some ethereal feeling bubbling up inside his chest, making him unable to think. Everything he ever thought ceased to be and all he could feel was this. All he could feel was real. 

_Everything was finally fucking real._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally!!! Also, pls ignore me completely forgetting about Sander's love for bowie and trying to fit it in somehow, I'm making this up as I go and I really wish I planned this fic better other than the major parts haha. As always, thanks for reading and I promise a lot of fluff for the next and last chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I suck at kissing scenes so thanks Bianca for reading it over. And I know I know I should be working on the siren fic I’m getting to it haha 
> 
> Hugs and kusjes🥰
> 
> skam tumblr: sonderthroughthestreets


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